


Invisible

by WeOffendedShadows



Category: Glee
Genre: AU, AU: magic and wizardry, Body Modification, F/F, G!P, Girl!Peen, Light BDSM, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-01
Updated: 2013-11-25
Packaged: 2017-12-28 04:32:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 37,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/987683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeOffendedShadows/pseuds/WeOffendedShadows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rachel had a reflection. She knew she existed, since on some level people acted like she did. But they never did anything to truly show it. For just over seven months now, Rachel Barbara Berry had been completely invisible to the eyes of the world. She was truly alone. -</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Six am. 

The alarm broke the silence and Rachel opened her eyes, her body refusing any command to get up and get going, though probably because the desire to do so was severely hampered. But it was the first day of a new week, the second of her sophomore school. She rose slowly, made her bed and climbed onto her elliptical for a thirty minute work out, her legs slowly working up tempo, though there was only the sound of the machine whirling and spinning and rocking. Everything else was quiet. 

Six thirty.

After spending her self-imposed time exercising, a task that had become harder and harder this year, Rachel striped and entered her shower, simply rinsing the sweat off her body and washing just enough so there was no odor that she could detect on herself. The ordeal took ten minutes. Getting dressed was just a matter of throwing on a pair of sweats and a baggy shirt, no real need for panties or a bra, for which she was thankful for. Her shortness carried over to her breasts and she had just enough to be a handle. In five minutes, she was out of her room and down to the kitchen. 

Six thirty five. 

Breakfast was a matter of dancing around her fathers, who stepped out of her way as she moved to the fridge and pulled out her soy yogurt and fruit, though there was only a few berries left. She would have to make due, Rachel figured. A bit of granola and the berries, plus the yogurt would hopefully hold her over until lunch, which her fathers paid for. They talked about little things, answer simple questions and commenting on stupid aspects like the weather or local sports teams or a song they heard on the radio. Rachel took ten dollars out of her daddy's wallet that he always left on the counter, something for coffee after school and enough for a small salad. She left without saying goodbye.

Sixty forty five. 

The drive to school was silent, her car speeding along the roads, taking car to follow the speed limit, the cool September wind blowing her face; at least summer was mostly over and despite the horror that was school starting up, Rachel enjoyed fall. The leaves leaving their home to collapse upon the ground where they laid unnoticed; the animals gathering what they need for the winter and hiding away, and people slowly covering themselves up against the ever growing cold. Rachel loved it.

Sixty fifty five. 

Pulling into school this early was never a chore. No one came, and she always had a decent parking spot, not that it really mattered, but she liked the principle of the thing, and she liked to stand on principle. Or maybe it was just the ritual that kept her doing so. Rachel sat in her car and waited, grabbing a paper back from her bag and read as slow as possible, trying to enjoy the world on the pages before her instead of thinking about school. 

Seven thirty.

She exited her car, grabbing a new book from the box she kept in her almost empty backseat, and entered the building as everyone else rushed inside. Ten minutes until homeroom. The students who cared, for whatever reason, scrambled about, practically running the rough the halls. Rachel walked through the middle, and everything parted around her. She had stopped at her locker, grabbed what books she was expected to use in her morning classes, and walked through the middle of the hall, the waves of people parting around her. 

A jock, whose name she hadn't cared to learn, carried a large slushie cup down the hall, approaching her. Rachel didn't look up or even flinch as he pulled his arm back and threw it upon the person behind her. Once she might have felt sorry.

Seven forty.

Rachel sat down in homeroom, stacking her books neatly on her desk and pulled the new one out of her bag, reading as the teacher took attendance. She hadn't cared for the morning announcements. This new book might actually hold her attention, what with the space drama of the captured princess and how she was saving herself. It would be interesting, at least, hopefully more exciting than her last. Maybe the seven hundred pages would last more than a day. Another bell and the school day started. Rachel returned the book to her bag, grabbed the sides of the desk and pulled herself up with as much strength as she could muster. No one touched her as she walked through the large crowd of people trying to force their way through the door. 

Seven fifty five.

First period was an easy enough class, being math and all. Rachel had finished the text book already, taken all the notes she needed, and spent majority of the time in the course reading whatever book she had on hand. She walked in, placed her homework on the pile formed on the teacher's desk and shuffled to her seat in the back, away from everyone else. The teacher droned on and on about limits and why they were important and what learning about them could do for your math career. No one cared. There was a power point, poorly drawn graphics, and general moaning from the students concerning the difficulty of the whole subject. 

Eight forty five.

The rest of the day was as slow as the morning period. Methodical and topics she had taught herself during class while the teachers struggled to drag the students to some semblance of understanding. After finishing her book during her sixth period, Rachel slept until the bell rang, and found herself right in front of the locker room before realizing she wasn't still napping in science. The experiment they did, that she completed by herself, was easy enough, and the report even easier, turned in with half the class period left. 

Gym was somewhat interesting, though Rachel had to admit to herself she still smiled as she watched blatantly as the other girls striped down to their underwear and placed on ridiculously short shorts with too tight tops to go with the outfit. All and all, it was the highlight of her day, and something that helped make school more bearable. Especially since three cheerleaders, including Santana Lopez, was in her period. That alone made things fun for her to watch and she forced her hands to stay out of her sweats. 

Changed into her own outfit, she stepped out into the somewhat cooler gym, enjoying how the air conditioning was still on. While the other students did some silly game, Rachel just ran around the perimeter, taking measured steps and timing herself. Elliptical was great for stamina, but she wanted to improve her time in running three miles, show herself that she could be as fast as she wanted, it was only her will that decided it. 

When gym ended, Rachel smirked and walked into the locker room, stripping down completely and sauntering into the shower. Some of the girls had never been worth watching, and Rachel had been a firm believer in that the inside dictated what a person looked on the outside. Actions were important yes, but in high school, kids wore so many masks, her point of view made things easier to understand and accept it. Which made leering at Santana even more fun, particularly today, when things were going well for the Latina. 

The girl was a bitch, complete and direct, with her two other friends. Except when she wasn't. The times when Rachel watched her, she noticed as sweet she was towards Brittany S. Pierce and protective towards Lucille Quinn Fabray, the other two thirds of the Unholy Trinity, and, Rachel admitted to herself, the other two-thirds of her perv material. What made Santana so ugly sometimes was the anger; it filled the Latina's well proportioned, especially since the so called breast augmentation, though Rachel never noticed any scars, body, consuming her every fire until this horrible troll of a person stood in front of someone, screaming and threatening and swearing. But that being disappeared around her two only friends, leaving the third hottest girl as she looked right now. Carefree and content. Santana was only truly happy around Brittany and Quinn. 

After staring for five minutes, her own hands finding her small breasts and pussy, caressing them just enough to torture herself, Rachel watched as Santana left the showers and got dressed, leaving only Rachel leaning against the wall underneath the warmth of a shower spray. She got dressed in her sweats and sweater and left the other girls who lagged behind. 

Three thirty.

Rachel stayed after school and sat in the bleachers as she normally did, watching as the Cheerios practiced. It was a favorite activity despite the relative ugliness of majority of the team. She had eyes only for the Unholy Trinity. 

Quinn wore this horribly white, tight tank top, the bottom barely reaching her flat and perfect abs, complemented by the red shorts that came all the way up to her ass. Santana was no better, in a similar outfit. But Brittany was the focus today, wearing only a red sports bra and her cheerio skirt. It was all about the teasing and Rachel enjoyed watching these three. 

Practice was long, and usually boring in the beginning, but Rachel still watched as her three favorite sights ran around the track, talking to each other while moving at a speed the other Cheerios could only hope for. Quinn didn't even sweat, she glistened. The ice queen and truly Head Bitch in Charge was the most powerful student in McKinley, second in overall power to Sylvester, her coach, and she ruled with an iron fist and perfect beauty. She could have been carved from marble, Rachel swore, with how exquisite her body was shaped. A simple glare and an raised eyebrow cowered the student population, directing her Cheerios to control the masses. A radiant smile brightened the hallways more than any light could. Rachel had never experienced either. 

The last thought broke her little spell of watching them. Rachel picked up her backpack and walked from the bleachers, leaving the three sexy girls and their collection of cows and pigs to their workout and practice.

Three Thirty Five.

She never cried at school. Ever. It was one of her rules she developed quickly after realizing just how horrible things were and how they would never change. The tears were saved for when she was in her car, even though no one would ever see it. 

No one spoke to her, acknowledged her, touched her. Ever. In school, everyone just moved around her for the most part, though there was the occasionally bump. The teachers wrote her down as present and graded her homework and tests, but never called on her, never paired her with anyone. School was lonely then, and now everywhere in Lima was.

It started back after the holiday break, but the silence wasn't sudden. It was slow, paced out over months at a time, and to be honest with herself, Rachel took advantage of the situation. School was better without constant slushies, which was what she noticed first. Then, it grew. She stopped being called on. She wasn't paired up with anyone, then the school stopped acknowledging her all together. 

At the time, her Dad and Daddy still talked with her, so she was okay with it. Rachel caught up on her homework and studies, sang in the hallways, danced and enjoyed herself. She wore what she wanted, including stripping down to her underwear, and less, she thought, blushing at the thought, and walking to class, enjoying the summer air. Rachel followed people around, and being the curious girl she was, avoiding the title of pervert, she did, by chance, stumbling into the boys locker room and enjoy watching some of them shower. But the girls brought more pleasure to her, and Rachel enjoyed the day, at the time, sitting on the bench, naked and rubbing a few out at the sexy and beautiful girls, though it disappointed her now that she would never have a chance with them, because they would never notice her. Ever.

Things were all grand. She missed talking to Kurt and Tina, who, despite their general annoyance that was certainly waranted sometimes, were her friends, in a way. She missed how she was at least included in the classroom and teachers noticed her. Rachel didn't even think that something was truly wrong until her Dad and Daddy stopped conversing with her just before summer break. Her fathers, Barbara, did she miss hearing their voice directed towards her, once told her she needed applause to live. It was meant as a joke, these days, she wasn't so sure. 

Summer was went it grew until no one saw her. The cashiers at her shops and waiters at least talked to her, however briefly, though now they just took her order and went about as automatons on what she wanted. Rachel was there, interacting, but she was completely isolated in it, as though it was one of the video games she bought with a stolen credit card (she was bored at the mall and didn't feel right stealing the system and game, so the credit card of the previous buyer seemed appropriate), though she was the talking protagonist and everyone else was silent. 

Rachel had a reflection. She knew she existed, since on some level people acted like she did. But they never did anything to truly show it. For just over seven months now, Rachel Barbara Berry had been completely invisible to the eyes of the world. She was truly alone.


	2. Chapter 2

Santana had her eyes closed for over ten minutes. She had sat still for about an hour. She was sweating, exhausted, and her legs were cramping up. None of this was caused by sex and that alone angered her. But she did it anyways. And still nothing had happened. “Britts, this isn't-”

“Shh,” her girlfriend said. “Just give it a moment.”

“Brittany, sweetie,” Quinn said, her soft soprano light and free. Santana loved listening to her other girlfriend talk outside of school. At McKinley, they were the HBICs, even sweet, kind Brittany, mostly because everyone knew better than to make her angry, and that wasn't even doing to Snix coming out and making their life fucking hell on earth. Here though, in the room they designated as the Laboratory(Britts' name, not hers), they were free to be themselves. 

Quinn, light and so full of smiles and joy, untempered by the will of people around her and the fact that she forced so hard back in order not to be crushed. Brittany, finally able to show just how smart and brilliant and wonderful she really was, instead of being the dumb blonde that she was stuck with after a bad day in the Laboratory that they refused to talk about. And Santana, the anger she fed and nurtured at school died down, and all she was left with was warmth, love, and tenderness, showing how creative she could be, how much fun she really was. This was home, their safe haven, and nothing could take that away. She would be sure of it. “Nothing has happening. The ritual did not work.”

“But my math was right,” Brittany said. “I tripled checked it. Lord Tubbington helped out and everything.”

“It's okay,” Santana said. She opened her eyes and stared at Brittany, who scrunched her face up and tried to hide behind her hands, her shoulders rising and falling slowly. “Aw, Britts, hun, please don't cry, I can't handle it, please.”

“It was perfect. Sanie, you drew everything right, and I felt your power, Q,” Brittany continued. Santana felt a weight settle on her chest, but she didn't want to move until Quinn broke the circle. “It was clean and wonderful and I felt it tingle my clit and my nipples were so hard, still are, and I almost came from it, it was so much. But I handled it right. We handled it right. Right, Quinnie?” The baby nicknames were never good. Dios mia, she hated when Brittany was sad. It was just, just wrong and made everything ache in her in a way that she didn't enjoy. 

“Of course,” Quinn said. Santana watched as her captain stood, and she released a breathe she didn't know she had held. Her legs were tired, weakened from refusing to let them move, or exist in her mind really, for an hour. At least she could stretch them out, how Quinn could stand she didn't know.

Her captain walked two steps over to their girlfriend and wrapped Brittany in a tight hug. “I just don't understand,” Brittany said. Dios mia, the tears were there. Why did her sweet and lovely Brittany have to cry? The weight on her chest grew heavier, and Santana fought her own tears. 

From experience or maybe a sixth sense that she always had, Quinn held out her arm and Santana scrambled into the hug, enjoying the feeling of the two hottest girls' naked bodies against hers. At least she would have, had Brittany not been so devastated by the failure of the ritual.

They were suppose to gain mage-sight, whatever that was. Quinn thought of it after reading it in a book, and Brittany wanted to do it, having read the same passage. Santana just went along for the ride. It was how it worked. Two of them understood the spell or ritual and the third just enjoyed the happiness, the smiles, the joy of the situation. They didn't fail often, but it was never fun when they did.

“Oh sweetie,” Quinn said, pulling her two girlfriends tighter. Santana wrapped herself around Brittany, allowing the much taller but equally lean girl to almost swallow her in the hug, settling her in her lap. The warmth of Quinn, the rare and majestic aspect that was never seen at school, hugged them both, keeping them safe in their tears. Because when Brittany cried, Santana cried. Hell, when Quinn cried, she cried. She hated that she was the most emotional, but here, in safety, she could be. “I'm sure it was not your fault.”

“But..but...but...”Brittany said.

“I love yours too,” Quinn replied, “It was probably me, I am feeling a bit off today and-”

“Q, you better back that up,” Santana said, her head resting just under Brittany's neck. Quinn's chin sat on her head, just light enough that it didn't hurt, and she knew that Brittany's mouth was right next to her cap's ear. “No way you didn't give enough. It's been, what? Five minutes, and my nipples still hurt.”

“Quinnie,” Brittany whined. 

“Brittany,” Quinn said in the same tone. Santana sniffed and smiled. This was going better, the failure, at least. Not the warmth, that could never get better. 

“You better fix what you started.”

“I didn't start anything,” She replied. Santana pulled out enough so she could look up at her cap, wiping her tears away and attempting to replace them with a playful glare. Quinn's smile said she accomplished her goal.

“Bullshit,” Santana said. “It's your turn anyways.”

Quinn sighed and stood up slowly, holding her hands out for her girlfriends. Wiht a simple pull, the blonde had the two standing up. “Then I choose my bed.”

“What about your mom?” Brittany asked as Quinn sauntered, because no girl's ass, not even her own, shook like that unless she wanted the attention, to the stairs. 

“Mother will not be home for a couple of hours, and I still want to shower before then, so,” She looked over her shoulder and smirked at them. The goddess of beauty and joy smiled at them; Santana swore and the heaviness she felt in the pit of her heart dissolved until it settled into almost throbbing need in her pussy. “Come then, and we will soil my bed for a third time.”

“And the shower?” Brittany asked. Quinn just nodded and walked delicately up the stairs and out of site, not even worried about her nude, because naked was too crude for her girlfriend, body. Brittany turned to Santana and kissed her hard, flattening her lips against her teeth and pressing her nose against her cheek. She pulled away, taking Santana's lower lip in her teeth a little of bit. 

She moaned in response, and reached out to grab the blonde, but Brittany let go with a laugh. “I love when it's her turn.”

“You just love when she takes charge,” Santana said. 

“And you don't?” A hand slid between her legs, cupping her lightly, and pushed a finger into her wet lips, a soft squishing sound filling her ears. Maybe she was just imagining it, but the gentle touch and non-existent fingernails(thank good they cleared that up when they were in middle school and experimented both of magic and sex) were enough to make her moan. She closed her eyes and just enjoyed her girlfriend's finger in her pussy.

“I didn't, fuck,” Santana tried to say, but Brittany curled her single finger upward, “say that, Jeez, Britts, please don't-”

“C'mon,” Brittany whined and pulled away, Santana stood still for a moment, eyes closed and trying to hold onto the feeling of that one finger. “Sexy-times are waiting, and I don't want to keep her waiting.” The hand that was on her pussy wrapped around her wrist, wasting her own juices on her skin when she could've sucked them off of Britts fingers was a terrible thing, pulled her towards the stairs. Santana just let herself be lead up and to Quinns room. 

They stood outside the only bedroom they felt safe in, and waited. The door was closed. Quinn didn't having many rules, but liked to keep the few that she did, even with them. It wasn't a big deal really. If Quinn's door was shut, wherever she was, she didn't want to be bothered or interrupted. And despite Quinn's power, she still struggled with using it sometimes, and the transformation was a bit slow for her cap to make sure it was right. It embarrassed her, and they were okay with ignoring that fact. They were a coven, and nothing could take that away. 

It was the first ritual they did, forming their trinity, and Santana hadn't regretted it since, despite having the insatiable urge to fuck sometimes once a month, sometimes more. That was a small price to pay when she possessed the hottest and third hottest girl in the school, but Santana knew she would struggle through it. She was sadly fourth in that list, though couldn't remember who Brittany had declared was the second behind Q. It didn't matter, because the door opened slightly and Brittany hurried in, pulling Santana with her. 

Lying on the light green sheets of the bed, leaning on her elbows, leering at her two naked girlfriends was Quinn. And her cock. All nine inches of it. Standing at attention. For them.

“It's bigger,” Brittany whispered, walking slowly over to the bed. She dropped Santana's hand, and she missed the feeling already. But she couldn't move. It was, god, how did Quinn get bigger. It was bad enough the girl was already the longest, but to grow even larger, Santana held back her moan. Barely. It was an enormous task and she felt she deserved a fucking medal for it, or at least first fuck. “How'd... Quinnie...what...”

“Sorry,” Quinn said, blushing. “I did the same thing, but it just came out like this.”

“You say it like a bad thing,” Brittany said. 

“It's too big, isn't it? I can always just-” Quinn had closed her eyes, and Santana wanted to reach out and force her to open them. She recognized her girl's focused face, bit lip, tightened brow, scrunched up nose. She was going to will it away. But Brittany moved first, and much quicker, grabbed the cock before Quinn could do the unthinkable.

“Don't you fucking dare,” Brittany said, and slowly began to slide her hand up and down the cock, pausing every once in a while to lick her hand before returning it. Quinn moaned. “This is perfect and I want to feel this in me.”

They made a deal. Each one of them knew the spell to grow a cock out of their clit, or alter their pussy entirely as Brittany liked to do; it was another one they learned as quick as possible, mainly because Santana loved the feeling of something filling her up more than fingers, and Brittany demanded they fulfill her desires. And they took turns, as was only fair. Sometimes just one of them transfigured, or two, or all three. It depended on the mood and whoever was the first. 

“San,” Quinn moaned, her arms falling above her head and stretching her perfectly formed tits a bit, letting them just be. “Please, I want-” Another moan was all she heard as Brittany decided she wanted to attempt to deepthroat, which Santana was going to refuse on GP and fear of choking, the massively long cock. It was certainly the longest of theirs. She had the honor of being the thickest, while Brittany enjoyed her average size and stamina of a fucking horse, maybe three. She swore that the girl was an energizer bunny when it was her turn and enjoyed tormenting them with pleasure. It was awesome.

Santana moved over to the bed, crawled up on her knees so she was leaning over her captain, her hair surrounding the blonde. She stared down at her, watching with a smirk as her eye lids fluttered. A quick glance over to Brittany was enough to notice that she had not been able to get majority of it down her throat, left to slide her hand along it, tracing with her finger tips designs, grabbing and squeezing it, licking it and sucking just the head. God she loved blow jobs from Brittany, the girl couldn't take much but worked what she could. 

“San, I- oh god,” Quinn said, reaching out with a hand. “Give me, grow, just-” 

She leaned down, cupping Quinn's cheek and kissed her lips, smiling into her. Her skin was so smooth, so tender. Santana had a moderately complicated routine to maintain her skin tone and texture, but Quinn was just a simple bar of soap and done. She started to trace circles on her cheek before sliding her hand down to Quinn's neck. Dios mia, the girl had silk for hair; her hands just slipped right through it, enough that her fingers entangled themselves. She pulled tightly on her hair, further pressing her mouth sideways on her lips and her nose against her cheek. A breath or a few, she release and drag her tongue along Quinn's lips, she loved the slight cherry taste of her chapstick, pulling away as she tried to capture Santana's with her teeth, only to moan as Brittany sucked harder on her cock.

“Silly girl,” Santana said, smirked as she pulled away. Quinn hadn't stopped reaching for her pussy, but her arm just flailed limply, without really direction. She petted her hair. “Just enjoy what we're giving you.”

“Want to,” Quinn breathed out, and Santana turned her head slightly to watch Brittany lick up from Quinn's pussy to the tip of her cock. She reached down and gripped one of Quinn's nipples in her hand, teasing it lightly between her finger tips, rubbing it back and forth, back and forth. Her other hand copied the motion, lightly scraping just above her hair line on her neck. “Please, San, I want your...”

Santana just leaned down and kissed Quinn again, starting with her forehead, then the bridge of her nose, her left and right cheek, the tip of her nose, her chin before finishing with her lips, a brief simple touch of each other. She pulled back, Quinn following, leaning up and Santana helped with her other hand, until her captain was sitting up. She placed a hand on Brittany's head, running through the blondes finger tips. Santana scooted up so she was kneeling just next to and slightly behind Quinn, wrapping an arm around her back until her hands grazed the side of her breast, the other still on her nipple. She started to gentle bite the neck offered to her, pushing Quinn's hair aside with her nose.

“Brittany,” Quinn said, “stop.”

“But I,” The blonde said, her hand now extremely slick with her own spit and Quinn's pre-cum. She didn't let go. 

“No, I want you to stop,” She said. Quinn turned her gaze to Santana, looking down at the girl who was attached at her neck. “You too.”

“But you taste so wonderful,” Santana muttered in to Quinn's neck, licking from her collar bone to her ear. Her captain shivered slightly. 

“Stop.” It wasn't Quinn's voice. It was not kind and melodious and generous. It was the HBIC. Sex with Quinn came in two forms, and sometimes it switched quickly, especially when she was in a mood: soft, sweet and gentle; or harsh, controlling and quick. Santana loved both. Maybe they could get both. “Santana, I want you to grow your cock.” It was a chore to get her to speak the non-clinical terms, but four years of being together, Brittany and she finally broke her down and got her to using the dirty words, which made it even hotter when she used it in her HBIC voice. “Now.”

Santana tried to pull away, but Quinn's fingers gripped one of her nipples and held tight, just enough for her to gasp. “Quinn, I-”

She squeezed tighter. 

“Captain,” Santana corrected herself. She rubbed her legs slightly, trying to releave some pressure. “I need to concentrate.”

“So do so,” Quinn let go, but her hand slide down Santana's stomach, tickling her just above her waist line before dipping between her legs. She pushed two fingers into the Latina, spreading them slightly before pulling them out. Then repeated. Dios mia. The pace was slow, methodical, and just enough to follow the Cheerio's motto: it's about the teasing, not the pleasing. 

“I...I...” Santana leaned into her neck.

“Yes, you can,” Quinn said. “You need to be able to separate yourself from your emotions if you want to cast more spells, San.” 

Santana shook her head. She didn't want to cast more spells. She didn't want to be more effective in anything. She wanted to fucking cum, but Quinn's pace was too slow and every time she tried to push down or into the fingers, her captain just adjusted and kept the pace to be just on the safe side of agonizing. “You can do this,” she whispered, leaning down just a bit until her breathe danced into her ear. “Just remember what we talked about. What you really wanted today.”

“C'mon, Sanie,” Brittany said, still moving a hand on Quinn's cock, though her other one had started between her own legs. 

“Just keep herself on the edge, Bri,” Quinn said. “I don't want you having fun before me.”

“Boo,” Brittany said, but Santana heard the smile in her girlfriend's voice. 

“So, Santana, what's it gonna be,” Quinn said, her hand slowing down even more. “A simple incantation and a hard, thick cock growing from your clit, where I'll lick and suck it, opening my mouth wide just to slide it in, my teeth scraping her veins. Or you just want to kneel here as I keep my pussy nice and wet for some time later.” 

Santana shuttered and thrust her hips forward, but gave nothing more. 

“I could let you stretch Brittany wide, pushing hard into her, letting her groans of pain echo in my room. Wouldn't like to feel her tight and hot pussy around you? Pulsing against you? Squeezing you and attempting to swallow you in all? Or I could just give you my fingers, in and out, in and out.”

Santana closed her eyes. Her hands held onto Quinn now, though Brittany had climb up onto the bed and taken one of hers. Casting a spell, or using magic in general, involved very little effort, if one knew what they were doing, just will and focus and control of what the magic should do. Of all of them, Santana had the weakest will. She knew the spell and could control it once it started, but it took a few moments for her to gather herself, without distraction, to cast the spell. Now, though, with sexy-times upon them, and Quinn being her HBIC self, Santana's will was scattered about herself.

In her mind, she focused on her flame, her totem. It was a specific flame, in color and size depending on what she was doing. The fingers, Dios mia, need them to – no – focus, she could do this. Santana funneled her lust, even just a little bit into the flame, and letting it consume it. Her will gathered about the flame, similar to moths. She breathed in deeply, gasping, as she released the spell, magic coursing through her body and collecting around her clit. It took a few moments, but Quinn grasped her as she grew, her hand wrapped about it, hardening it as she grew. 

“Thata girl,” Quinn said. She caressed Santana's cheek with the back of her fingers, letting her rest on her shoulder as she tried to breathe evenly again. “My saint.”

“I'm a sinner,” Santana replied, giggling that quickly turned into a moan as a hand tightened on her cock. Brittany's voice joined in the chorus as Quinn's other hand was forced between her legs and she slide her fingers in her. 

“I know,” she laughed. “my girls, my beautiful wonderful girls.”

“Aye, captain,” Santana said. “So what'll it be.”

“I'm gonna fuck you hard, San,” Quinn said. “And normally, I'd love to see that thick cock of yours dance in the air, but today, it's gonna be buried in Britt. As I fill that tight, firm ass of yours, you're gonna be pounding hard, meeting my every thrust and transferring it to our girlfriend. Understand.”

“Yay!” Brittany hugged Quinn tightly and then lied down on her back, waiting for her girlfriends to begin. “Let's do this.”

Quinn laughed and pulled away from Santana, letting her go. She whimpered in the loss of the touch, but crawled over to Brittany, spreading her legs. Her cock was hard, throbbing, and Brittany just reached out and grabbed it. Without hesitating, she slide the tip into her pussy. “No,” Santana said, “I can't, it needs-”

Brittany sat up and wrapped her legs around, forcing the largest cock of the group into her without any lub or spit or pre-cum or anything. It wasn't slow, it wasn't easy, and it wasn't soft. They hadn't done this before, she had always taken her time with her girlfriends, especially Brittany. Santana looked down as the blonde took deep breathes, heaving and frowning as she tried to keep calm. She squeezed tightly against her, legs and pussy, and Santana swore she felt Brittany's pulse. She breathed out unevenly, trying to keep herself in check as her girlfriend just held her, her tight pussy squeezing every once in a while, milking her, damn minx. 

“Sweetie, I'm so, so,” she started to say, but lost her voice as two tits pressed against her back, and then two arms wrapped around her chest and gripped her nipples. Brittany relaxed a bit, pulling her legs so Quinn could slide behind her. And the nine-inch cock sat between her ass cheeks, rubbing against her. 

“Good girl,” Quinn said. She bit down on Santana's neck and wrapped her arms around the girl, her hands coming up her stomach to grip the Latina's wonderful breasts. There was no unnatural augmentation, just pure Santana, despite the rumors that some Cheeriho spread about her. “Such a good girl.

“Thanks,” Brittany replied. Santana barked out a laugh, which turned into a moan as Brittany shifted on under her, moving left and right, rubbing her ass on the bed, and rubbing Santana's cock in her pussy without removing it. “I try.”

“And that you do,” Quinn said. “Go ahead, San, start.”

“It's too...fuck,” Santana said. Brittany pulled away slightly, letting her pussy drag along Santana's cock.   
“So...fucking...,” Brittany said. She kept moving up the bed, pulling herself off the cock, but Quinn pressed into Santana, driving the cock even deeper into the blonde. “God.” Santana sucked in another breathe, almost falling on the blonde, but her arms holding her up just so their tits grazed each other.

“Look at the way she's stretched,” Quinn whispered, squeezing her tits. “You can almost see that cock of yours in her pussy. Just feel it.” She slide her hand down Santana's taught abs, shaking almost from the effort of not moving, of trying to let Brittany get used being so full, being actually stuffed with her entire cock. Quinn continued moving her hand until it rested just above Brittany's clit and started rubbing the flesh there. “There it is, that monster you like to hide. Isn't it wonderful, Bri?”

Brittany nodded. 

“I know right, just think of how good it'll feel once Santana really starts ramming your small pussy. I mean, already my bed is soaked, and that's just from you. You in her, you fucking her, you, San. All you.” She slide her hand up and down, every once in a while just touching Brittany's clit. Each time she did, the girl shook, her pussy pulsing. Santana sucked in another breathe, her arms now shaking in holding herself. “Don't you, Bri?” 

Brittany nodded again, much faster this time. “Please, Sannie, please, just start.”

Quinn pulled back slowly, her hands sliding up Santana's hips until they rested on her ass. “So beautiful, both of you. Her sweating and dripping from the cock in her, you shaking because you want to just fuck her like an animal, but love her too much to do so. Just let go.” She kneaded her cheeks, squeezing and pushing them apart, then together. “Just enjoy it, San, enjoy Bri, enjoy me.” 

“I... I … don't,” Santana shook her head. Quinn slide her cock between Santana's legs, letting the girl's soaked crotch wet cover her. “I...please, Dios mia.”

Quinn pulled back and kicked Santana's knees apart, just enough to push her down more, and the girl just bend and still have a solid base. She spread her cheeks and pressed her cock against her asshole. “You're gonna fuck our girlfriend, San, and I'm gonna fuck you.” She shook her head. Brittany wrapped her arms around her neck and pulled her down, moaning into her mouth. Quinn pushed herself in, and Santana whimpered, trying to relax her ass so she didn't hurt herself. 

Quinn leaned down, grabbed Santana's hips, and began to pull out slowly, or started to, but she pulled Santana with her, her cock sliding out of Brittany with more ease now. The two girls moaned and Quinn chuckled, twisting Santana's nipples in her finger tips. Once Santana was almost out, she pushed her back into Brittany, and Quinn slid achingly slow out of her ass.

“Fuck, you're evil,” Santana whispered, her words being swallowed by Brittany's mouth. The blonde licked a bit of her drool and kissed the side of her lips, smiling the entire time.

“I'm just returning the favor of last time,” Quinn said, twisting her fingers again, bringing Santana's with her. 

It took a bit of effort, focus and a lot of will on Santana's part especially, but they found something of a rhythm, though Quinn's laughter in her ear was just this side of hot, pushing annoying. She thrust hard into the pussy, only to breathe out as the cock in her ass, rather deep actually when she thought about it later, just before passing out, dragged out of her. As she pulled out of Brittany, Quinn slammed her hips into Santana, pushing herself deep into her. 

Every once in a while, Quinn slipped out of Santana's ass, or maybe just pulled out to tease her, leaving her to fuck Brittany on her own. She moaned at the loss, but Brittany's pussy held her attention a bit more. Only for Quinn to push into hers, which for once she kept despite the cock she grew. Once her captain was lubed up, she returned to her ass. 

Her mouth remained mostly attached to Brittany's though they pushed each other to side, sliding on their lips. Her girl tasted like strawberries, her favorite flavor, and Santana licked her lips, drawing her lower one in with her teeth just to flick her tongue against it. Brittany laughed, and sent sweet shakes up into her own chest. She pushed her hair out of her face. “It tickles,” Brittany said.

“Sorry?” Santana said, but any other words were lost as Quinn pushed hard on her, and Brittany squeezed her just as hard. Her girlfriends were evil. 

Each stroke was deep, both in and out, and Santana was moving just at instinct. Brittany held her still, letting the Latina gasp into her ear, their breasts mashed together. Her hips moved on their own, guided only by Quinn's hands on her waist. She moaned as her captain pushed hard, timing herself so it was the exact moment she pushed into Brittany. The blonde arched her back, but she hadn't felt the familiar tightening, the shaking of the girls stomach, and Santana just kept thrusting in and out, her cock stretching her almost to her limits. “F-fuck me,” Brittany pleaded. “Just f-f-fuck me, Sannie, please, I-I-I-” She gasped as Santana slammed into her again. 

“Such, such,” Quinn said, laughing again.

“Shut up, Q,” Santana said. “Just do as your-oh god-says or I swear-” Quinn slapped her ass once, a scream leaving Santana's mouth before she knew it.

“How close are you, San?” She whispered. “I bet Bri is just shaking under you, how close is she?”

Her cock ached, her ass burned, and she had no energy left in her legs, but Santana kept thrusting. Somewhere in her, deep inside, where the spell rested in her and held that cock on her clit in reality, she thought, why haven't I cum yet. But her body just continued, letting Brittany now quiver under her, her stomach still. “Please, I-I-I need,” she said, tears forming in her eyes. It hurt so much, like that cock ring she tried once to match Brittany's staying power, but more so this time. So much wonderful so. “We...need...”

“Of course you do,” Quinn said. She bucked hard against Santana, tightening her hand on her hip hard enough to leave bruises, her other one almost tearing off her nipple. But as her ass filled with Quinn's cum, the barrier in her broke and her cock almost exploded in desire to empty itself, cum rushing from her in pulses, and Brittany arched her back until it was only her head holding her, her arms squishing Santana to herself. 

Pump after pump after pump, she felt her cock squeeze out every last drop into her girlfriend, and other other one just held her tight for another second before relaxing and collapsing onto the Latina. The extra weight twisted them, so that they all laid on their sides, but Brittany didn't pull away from Santana, and neither did Quinn. She knew she should have felt the shaking abs of the blonde, and Quinn's gentle touches, but all Santana was focused on was how wonderfully wet and hot and tight Brittany's pussy was, and how it quivered as she filled her with cum.  
She just wanted to rest, leaning on the bed, her nose touching Brittany's and feeling the heat from her ragged breathes, the caresses on her temple. Sleep sounded wonderful.

Santana woke to laughter, though it was soft and she still was between them. “What'ssofunny,” she mumbled, Quinn's arm acting as a pillow for her. Bitch probably had her own. 

“I think we broke my bed,” She said. Her cock was still hard inside her ass, and every breathe just pulled it slightly in and out, enough to keep her focused on it. Santana's had softened, but Brittany didn't pull away either. “My mom is gonna kill me.”

“It was worth it, Quinnie,” Brittany said. She pushed some of Santana's hair off her face. “You okay?” She nodded. “Thank you.” She kissed her softly, pressing just lightly with chapped lips. Quinn kissed her neck, matching the tenderness. 

She hurt. She hurt a lot. Santana wondered if she was gonna be able to walk tomorrow at school. Her legs felt like they didn't exist, and her ass shook every once in a while as Quinn continued to fuck her, albeit slowly, easing herself in and out. 

“Canyousstop?” Santana muttered, still not finding spaces between her words. A shake from the mouth on her neck told her it wasn't over. 

“Round two Quinn?” Brittany asked. The lips nodded. 

“No,” Santana begged, though she felt herself nodding. She wanted to sleep. 

“Mother will not be home for another hour or so,” Quinn said. “Let's see how much cum I can get into you and you can fill Bri with.” She shook from the thought. Or mini-orgasm, Santana couldn't tell. 

She didn't care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be honest here: this is my first time writing a straight up sex scene. So yeah... I thought it went pretty good. I promised smut. I delivered smut. It's awesome how it works like that. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for the kind reviews and followers, it's awesome that you're here, but I'd love to hear from y'all as well, because I have no idea what i'm doing here. It makes it even more interesting that way. 
> 
> Anyways, this is the sex, and we learn a bit more about the world, and the Unholy Trinity is further introduced. Once again, no beta, and I'll be producing these chapters in tandem with Dirty Paws, if you haven't go check that one out, its fun too with its tiger!G!P!Quinn and dom(kinda)!Rachel. 
> 
> I don't own glee. If I did, we'd have a massive discussion about how Puck failed to step up and no one fucking called him on that shit, and Rachel would have totally kidnapped Quinn and brought her into her house to take care of her – oh new plot idea. 
> 
> Because I can:  
> SurrealSteamPuckk(WeOffendedShadows)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It got worse. How the fuck could it have gotten worse? Things were terrible enough as it was, but it just had to continue downhill. It wasn't fair.

It got worse. How the fuck could it have gotten worse? Things were terrible enough as it was, but it just had to continue downhill. It wasn't fair. 

Rachel had stood in front of the Starbucks man-cashier-person, asking for her order. Under normal days, at least, her new normal really, the person behind the counter would take the order, get it ready and accept her money. Just not acknowledge that someone actually asked for anything.

Except that didn't happen. The boy stood still, waiting and waiting, as though she was just an empty space, because she was. He kept asking for the next person in line. It was a fluke, she told herself at the time, maybe it was in her imagination. That she hadn't disappeared completely . 

But she was wrong.

At school, the teacher didn't check her name off, or return her homework, or pass her out a test or anything. Before, she was present and there, and people had some interaction with her, though no words or real acknowledgment, but now. But now, now she didn't exist. No one interacted with her any more. There was something to tell her she was real, she was part of the world. She wasn't any more.

Rachel hugged her books tightly to her chest, hoping at least something could make the horrible ache within her stop. Her fathers walked around her, talked to themselves, and it wasn't knew but she could at least look forward to a plate of food at night, or cookies left out, her favorite. Did this mean that was over? The littlest of things left for her gone? No more tests graded, no more check-outs from the counter, no more dinners by herself where the waiter just took her order without question. The world was gone without her, and she was left in this hell.

Was it hell? She didn't necessarily believe that a place like that existed, partly due to her religion, but also because it meant that she was being punished for something she hadn't done. Some slight that was taken to an extreme and left her to be tortured by some unseen being in a terrible, empty world filled with figures and toys she couldn't partake in. She had books and movies, and video games, but really, she was by herself. Even people avoided her on the internet.

Rachel shuffled along the hallway, everyone passing by. She had missed third period, fourth, fifth, and was wandering just after sixth. She left school early, praying it was just a dream. A whole day of no one noticing her. The next morning had seen no improvement. She had been left alone, completely now. Her routine that held her together had fallen apart, just like everything else did, she guessed.

She didn't want this, this, this, horrible life she had. She was suppose to be a star, a glorious and bright figure that people looked up to. She had talent, had being the past tense really, because it wasn't talent if no one noticed. It was just a secret then. And really, talent only got so far. Talent was worthless without practice and lessons and being forgotten made it difficult to take lessons. 

She had enjoyed the first few months of it, when people slowly stopped noticing her. Masturbating and stalking and playing tricks on people, it was all rather fun and exciting. Until it didn't stop. Until her fathers forgot her. Until everyone forgot her. 

In the hallways, normally, people just passed her by, ignoring her entirely, though accidents did still occur. It was something that told Rachel she at least was a body, a physical present. She could touch them, but no one really noticed it, and she hadn't wanted to test how they would feel if she did more than touching, because that was rape and rape is wrong, no matter who or what. People couldn't give consent, because she couldn't ask for it, rather she couldn't get an answer. So she was left with herself and watching. Instead, the accidents she had involved just running into people, knocking them over because they weren't, falling over someone, because she wasn't paying attention.

Like now.

“Why don't you fucking watch where you're fucking standing, manhands,” Santana said, glaring down at her.

Rachel sat on the ground after running into Santana Lopez, one third of the Unholy Trinity, holding a large slushie, from the smile and taste it was strawberry(how ironic). The sweater she wore was ruined, poor Mr. Horsey. She picked it today simply because it would hopefully cheer her up, keep things bright and sunny, especially the yellow hand-stitched patch above her heart that was meant to be the sun, but the morning crushed and she felt like a little black rain cloud and there were no honey tries.

She could possible salvage it, if she got it cleaned quickly. Without hesitation, she removed it, her bare skin goose-pimpling as the air conditioning of the McKinley High hit her. Maybe she had a spare – damn it all, her sweat pants were covered in it. She started to slide them off of her, happy it wouldn't take much to clean them off at least. Santana must have had a large and-

“Dibs,” Quinn said, and Rachel looked up. All three were staring at her. Santana had spoken to her, directly, even if it was an insult. And the head bee herself, ice queen and goddess of rare untainted beautiful stared down at her as if she were some unethical piece of meat. 

They saw her.

They spoke to her.

And she was naked.

******

It was a decent morning, waking up in her broken bed with her girlfriends. The three of them did shatter one of the legs and put a hole in the wall, but she'd fix it. Eventually. Mother would not notice any ways, and they had an agreement not to ask too many questions when she returned from being kicked out for the audacity of being a lesbian by her father. Mother would not question her about her activities while she was absent, so long as she was not privy to the sounds or sights, and Quinn would not question her choice of dates or outings, whom she had never seen or heard details about though support wholeheartedly as her mother seemed happier than she was in a long time. 

They dressed and showered separately, only to make sure they could attend practice on time and avoid the wrath of the hurricane known as Sue Sylvester. Quinn made herself bacon sandwich, and Brittany picked on her oatmeal as Santana showered, having made too much again. Santana finished and her blonde rushed upstairs leaving the Latina to devour the remaining amount of fruit and oatmeal and ungodly amount of honey. Quinn had showered last, per their ritual, as she took the shortest amount of time, and the Unholy Trinity was out the door, dressed in their workout cloths and uniforms in bags. All before five am. 

Cheer season had just started and while they had had doubles over summer, with school in session, there was no extra time, and Sue demanded as much as she could from her soldiers. So morning and afternoon practice, with just enough time for homework. Quinn slept deeply but woke at the easier provocation, until Brittany who could pass out just laying down and Santana who took cymbals to wake(there was video proof and it was funny), so for the most part the three of them ignored the homework they completed in school, still practiced their magic, or studied it, and slept. It was an okay routine, but bland for the moment. Sue would slow down and let them sleep a bit later after the first week, hopefully. Maybe. She did last year at least. The first day wasn't the worst; that honor fell to the second.

After morning practice ended on the second day of school, they skipped homeroom because Santana demanded something to drink that wasn't water, Brittany wanted candy, and Quinn did not care. They walked back slowly. The three of them had passes to miss class due to whatever, but Quinn made sure it was a decent reason. Like candy. God bless Brittany. 

“Honey,” She said, rubbing Brittany's back. Despite the sugar she now had filling her backpack, her blonde was still upset over the failure of the ritual. Two days later. It was a pipe dream anyways, to complete something as strange as mage-sight. “It's okay.”

“I couldn't sleep last night,” she replied. “I knew it was correct, everything we did was right, and-”

“We so did not tire you out then,” Santana said, sipping gentle on her slushie. Her jaw still hurt a bit after Quinn made her suck all of her own cum out of Brittany, while fucking her ass for the third and final time as a means of celebrating surviving day one of Sylvester-lead hell. An acceptable reason for most of her discomfort. 

“Says the girl who passed out in her crotch,” Quinn added, enjoying how the Latina still managed to blush despite her well-tanned skin. Summer was good to her girls.

“Shut up,” Santana replied, trying, and failing, to hide behind her drink.

“Mage-sight would be such a great tool, determine just what leylines and aspects exist within wherever we want, like school, and the magic was meant to make the unseen seen. I'm sure it was perfect.”

“Then we will review what we know and work our way from scratch,” Santana said. “Let me take a look, kay? Maybe I can streamline some of it and-”

“Enough,” Quinn said. They were stepping onto the parking lot. School was off limits for magic talk; they never knew who was listening and despite their power, it was fragile because people were idiots and were swayed easily. 

“Did you finish the science?” Santana asked

“Yep,” Brittany said, “drew the dinosaurs and everything liked the teacher wanted.” They all had roles to play, and she felt pain at watching Brittany slide into hers, the ditz of the group, the one every underestimated because she said the strangest things. Of all of them, she could speak of magic almost freely, because no one took her genius seriously. Though she probably had the highest GPA out of them, everyone, including her failures of teachers, believed it was just dumb, and emphasis on the word, luck. 

Quinn hated them for that.

“For Physics?” Brittany shrugged. The Latina's voice dropped to almost a whisper “I'll need to see it, your real version, not the one you turn in, okay?” A nod and a smile. 

“Sweet.” Santana was viewed as the lazy and angry one of them, unwilling to keep up with school and taking whatever she wanted, including the answers for tests from the teachers, though that was once and because Puck dared her to do it, not believing Santana could bully her way through it. 

They chatted about worthless high school drama, falsely decided who to raise and who to crash during the day, just for fun and kicks, as they entered the depressing halls of McKinley high, where they had to sludge through just to escape one day. 

The hallways parted, and the Unholy Trinity walked like the queens they were, with their subjects straining for a fake smile, though cowering in fear at so much a glare. Quinn gave both out without warning, and freely, keeping her subjects in her grip. 

She hated them for that.

Santana stole some senior's breakfast burrito, specifically a bully's who had tortured, which was the correct use of the word, a small freshmen and almost sexually assaulting her the day before, on the first day of all things. He would be thrown into a dumpster, despite the chance of rain, maybe locked in; Santana would make sure of it. 

Anger masked her face, taking every corner, every curve, every hair in her, becoming her. Santana was an enforcer, a powerhouse in herself, and even the jocks feared her wrath. She had thrown Puck into a locker last year, despite being the lead running back and linebacker for the football time after he groped a goth chick when he walked by. Since then, Puck had become their dark knight, and smiled doing so, finding someone who was more badass then he was, who made him pause before he acted. But it was always with Santana's command, her hand guiding the slushies and power of the school, under Quinn's will, and without it, anarchy would rule.

She hated them for that.

“What up, baby mama?” Puck said; he pulled away from some Senior Cheerio, his hand still up her back. The girl was purring of all things. 

Quinn sighed and Santana glared at him, before she replied, “still with the shitty names? You need new material, or a checkup, probably both.”

The girl in his arms stiffened. Stephanie, that was her name. Quinn had thought of her only as blonde number five; it was easier to command them if she did not know their names. “No worries, I'll show you my doc's note saying I'm all good for today.”

“You have a dock? Oh what kind of boats do you have there?” Brittany asked.

Puck stared at her, his small brain trying to figure out just what he heard.

“Leave it, Britts,” Santana said, linking her pinky with her school-best friend. “Don't want the peons thinking they're important.”

“Penises?” Brittany replied. Quinn walked away, the conversation already boring school-her. She would like to talk to the boy, sometime, because underneath all the stupid and sex was a decent human, but this was never the place, and he would never mature for that. It was a loss for all of the world. 

“That too,” Santana said with a smirk and they followed their captain.

Santana slurped her slushie and Quinn shivered. It was a similar sound from a couple weeks ago, when they stayed over in Brittany's basement, watching old eighties summer camp movies. “Are you still drinking that?” she asked. They had caught up and walked just a step behind her.

“I'm savoring it,” Santana replied. “Need something given how much you made me work.”

“You were awesome last night,” Brittany added. “I came-” Quinn knew Santana's reaction without turning around. The Latina had dropped their pinkies and covered her mouth, trying to stop the stream of thought that Brittany employed at school. 

She laughed and shook her head. Her friends would never change, at least at school. Maybe when they left, for England hopefully, could they be themselves. 

But any thought of the future was broken for the moment when Santana ran into a girl who had not moved out of the way, her slushie spilling all over the god-awful horse sweater and sweat pants. It could have been only one girl.

“Why don't you fucking watch where you're fucking standing, manhands,” Santana yelled. The occupants of the hallway scurried away, smartly avoiding school-Santana. 

But Rachel Berry paid them no attention. She stared at her sweater and pulled it off of her without much hesitation, only contemplation. And the girl wore nothing underneath. 

Quinn licked her lips. She couldn't help it. The second hottest girl, by Brittany's poll, was sitting on the ground, books scattered about her, and threw a slushie soaked sweater to the ground, exposing two perfect breasts, nothing more than a handful really. She loved her girlfriends, but Rachel was another beautiful girl and she could at least appreciate it and ignore how her spankies felt slightly wet. 

The diva started to pull her sweatpants down, revealing, god, a clean shaven, rosy pussy above her perfectly toned legs and just below a developing six pack when she froze. Rachel stopped all motion and looked up at them, her eyes wide and mouth open. 

“Dibs,” Quinn said, smiling. They had not possessed the desire to add a fourth to their coven, but she was pretty certain she could persuade her girlfriends that Rachel would be a wonderful addition, after hiding for majority of the previous year, this would be a great time to approach both the diva and her partners. 

But she had not hidden. Quinn was certain of it. She frowned staring down at the beautiful naked girl, bits of red slushie dripping down her chest and hands on her sweatpants halfway down her thighs. Rachel had been part of the school for the entire time. She had not spoken, or participated in class, but she was present. She just never noticed before. Never saw her before. But Quinn was certain of it. She had to be. 

It would not make sense otherwise.

“You...” Rachel whispered, her voice raspy and weak, as if she barely used it these days. “You can see me?” Quinn remembered how wonderful the diva sounded before, an siren to her own Angel, Brittany said once, but she could not remember hearing that voice all during the second half of school.

“You are fucking naked right now,” Santana said. “Clearly fine as fuck, but all I can think about, staring down at that wonderfully shaved pussy of yours is-”

“I have claimed dibs,” Quinn repeated.

“She has,” Brittany said, looking at Santana.

“But...but...but...” Santana said. She looked back and forth from Rachel to Quinn. “Just look at her.”

“I have,” Quinn replied. “Hence the dibs.”

“And we have to respect that,” Brittany replied. 

“Wait, are we seriously talking about having manhands-”

“Rachel,” Brittany corrected.

“Whatever, join us? I thought three was the most powerful number.”

“No one has discussed that aspect, Satnana,” Quinn glared at her. Despite the events, they had an agreement. 

“You can see me?” Rachel repeated. “You can hear me, too? Right?” The voice was stronger, more like it was originally. 

“Quiet treasure trail, the grown-ups are talking,” Santana said. She turned her entire body to face her captain. “Bullshit to that, cap. Despite the fact that you're the most repressed of us, and it took until god damn seventh grade to even get you thinking about fucking us and enjoying the magic, you've had the hots for the diva for years.” Quinn narrowed her eyes. This wasn't the place for the discussion.

“True,” Brittany said. 

“So don't tell me, this isn't fucking about her joining us. Ignoring the magic part, captain,” Santana said, “which is a major part of this, B and I discussed this crap months before we started. About how you couldn't handle it.”

“Excuse me,” Quinn stepped forward into Santana's space, her nose almost pressing against her. “What the fuck are you talking about.”

“You couldn't handle her then,” Brittany said, her voice but a whisper. “It was difficult enough with you accepting that you were gay or at least bi and even though we are friends, you still were against it, until the very last moment when you pounced on Sannie and took her virginity. Still hot, be tee dubs.” Santana blushed and Quinn blushed harder, having to look away from her avenger.

“We...I was protecting you even then, like we agreed in eighth, when we decided we'd rule this school, just to make sure nothing happened to us, to get out of here.” Santana stepped back slightly, moving out of Quinn's space, and she wrapped her arms around herself. “You were fucking cruel to Berry, and we knew why, you couldn't accept it then, and we went along with it.”

“You can see me?” Rachel asked; though no one responded verbally, Brittany at least nodded.

“So what?” Quinn asked. “You were helping me, by taking a decision out of my hands?”

“No,” Brittany appeared just behind Quinn, wrapping herself around the blonde. “We were making sure you were ready for that decision.”

“And I'm not sure you are,” Santana added, her voice extremely soft.

“I'm sorry,” Rachel said, “But you three can see me?”

“God, fucking yes for the third time,” Santana said, “we can see your buck-ass naked self on the floor, flashing everything that God gave you, staring up at us like some dumb, needy puppy.”

“Be nice,” Brittany said into Quinn's shoulder. “She's confused.”

“So, this is just the next stage right? Hallucinations?”

“Huh?” Quinn said. She stepped out of Brittany's embrace and crouched in front of Rachel.

“I've lost my mind right. Or it's more like Castaway where I had to create some sort of thing to converse with, and I decided that I wanted to speak with the three hottest girls in the school who've I’ve been crushing on since this whole thing started, before freshmen year really, or it could just be the next stage, my mind torturing me further with just a taste of conversation before returning to-”

“Whole thing?”

“As my hallucinations, you should know this already.” She was shaking. Was it from the cold? Quinn knelt down fully, her knees next to Rachel's hip, almost close enough to touch her.

“Then that should answer the fucking dumb question,” Santana said. “We're not hallucinations.”

“I'm a real girl,” Brittany said proudly. Quinn sighed. 

“No acts right now,” Quinn said. Brittany stopped smile and moved to kneel next to her captain, her eyes wide and twitching, scanning the diva. “Rachel, I can promise you that we are not hallucinations.”

“One would say that, and only an insane person would believe they are sane,” She replied shaking her head. “No, this can't be anything but that because if it was, why would you three of all people see me.” 

“Slushies look good on you,” Santana replied, smirking as she gave the diva a once over. She didn't bother covering up. “Especially if this is the treatment.”

“Rachel, we are not lying to you,” Quinn replied.

She closed her eyes and shook her head again. “I want to believe you. I really do. But you can't be real. You just can't.” Her bottom lip quivered a bit, but she did not cry. Whatever pain was inside, the diva held within her. She trembled, hitched her shoulders and swallowed large gulps of air as she fought whatever she was. The bell rang, ending homeroom.

Santana knelt on the other side of Quinn. She did not need to turn to see the pain in the Latina. “Fuck, another cry? I can't handle this, cap, not after Britts yesterday, and especially something as innocence as my fucking little pony.” Rachel kicked her foot slightly, and Quinn laid a hand on her bare leg, steadying her. Just as her dreams, soft and smooth as her own, but taught with such strength and power. 

“Rachel, what can I do to make you believe in me?” She started to caress the leg, trying the soothing motions Brittany used on her back when she had a bad day at school or practice, up and down, circle left, up and down, circle left, circle right, down and up. Over and over again. No one moved in the foursome, and students just walked on by, walking, laughing about some stupid joke, headed for period one. 

“No,” Rachel whispered. “You can't be real. No, this isn't over and I'm still alone and you three are just demons sent to torment me further by my own mind and-” She started rambling speaking fast and under her breathe that Quinn could not understand her.

“Don't try to get her to believe that we are here, wherever here is for her,” Brittany said. 

“What?”

“She's been cursed.”

“How the fuck can you tell that?” Santana said, wiping at her eyes. “You sure she isn't crazy, which wouldn't be totally a change, mind you.”

“Notice something strange?” Brittany asked. “Remember the first lesson we talked about, Sannie.”

“Notice what's wrong as a starting point,” Santana repeated. 

“Who's asked about the naked girl surrounded by Cheerios?”

“Exactly,” Rachel said. “Hence why you're all hallucinations, and therefore just more torture for me, since I can't have the real ones.” She spoke quickly, forcing her words out in a strained whisper, but did not start hyperventilating again. Quinn just continued looking down at the diva, focusing on her face and closed eyes and not the way her breasts rose and fell, or thinking about how wonderful she would taste. 

“Santana?” Quinn said. Maybe they could at least start getting her to believe. Brittany said she was cursed, and Rachel was acting so strange. This was no curse she read about. 

“On it,” Santana replied, standing up without preamble. Four years of being in a coven, four years of exchanging love and bodily fluids. Four years of commanding and following. There want not really much she needed to tell Santana or Brittany about her wishes. They sometimes knew before she needed to.

Santana straightened her cheerio skirt and stepped towards a junior. It was not a random one, if Quinn choose to pay attention, but rather a girl who ridiculed some foreign exchange student from India constantly. 

Her enforcer stepped forward and picked the girl up by the lapels of her jean jacket. “Hey, what the-” The girl started to say, but a shake from Santana ended it.

“Do you know who I am?” 

She nodded. Quinn kept her eyes on Rachel's closed ones. They relaxed a little bit. 

“Say it.”

“San-San-San...”

“Fucking say it.”

“Santana Lopez,” She spat out, her words still shaking. Rachel relaxed even more.

“That's right, and what does that mean to you?”

“You're in charge.”

“Good, then you know how things work around here,” She said and lifted her higher. Students were stopping and staring at the pair now, camera phones out and whispers of a fight. “Who the fuck told you to mess with Ashwand-”

“Aishwarya,” Brittany corrected. She slide behind Rachel and leaned her back against her knees, rubbing her shoulders gentle. The diva relaxed her arms, allowing herself to be held up. 

“What the fuck ever,” Santana growled. Quinn loved that she could actually growl, and some part of her, the part that never showed at school, even if she asked her girlfriends to show their sides every once in a while, found it extremely hot. “So answer my fucking question, or I start by messing that horrible make-up job you did this morning, or-” She looked down at the junior's hands. “That's some shitty manicure, let’s see how worse I can-”

“Azimo.”

Santana let go, the junior fell to the floor, and she just walked back to the pile of girls. “Dismissed.” The hall emptied.

“So hot,” Brittany said, a sad smile crossing her face.

“Believe me now, Rae,” Quinn asked. There was no response; just a slow rise and fall of her chest, and what was that sound? A soft snore coming out of her. Even in sleep, the loud diva she remembered from before they forgot her still needed to speak. “Brittany?”

“It's a curse,” she said. “And I can see the mark.”

“Where?” Santana stepped around to look down over shoulder. She bend down to look over Brittany's shoulder, hands on them and her face right next to her ear. 

“I don't recognize it though; it's not one we studied.” 

“I do,” Santana replied, “or at least I understand what it's trying to do.” She kept her eyes focused on Rachel's back, just above her shoulder blade if Quinn followed her eyes, mouthing something, probably going through the catalog of her runes. 

“Which is?”

“You know how we were supposed to gain mage sight?”

“But didn't,” Brittany replied, pouting.

“I think the ritual worked, only not in a way that we expected,” Santana crouched behind her girlfriend. “Can you lift her up slightly?” Quinn moved to stop, but Rachel grabbed her wrist, preventing her from pulling away. She smiled at the diva. “See right there, Britts.” she traced someone on Rachel, the girl shook slightly. 

“Yeah?”

“Imagine it without the surroundings and reversed, maybe a bit straighter. See it now?”

“It's a sight ward.”

“Like I said, similar to the one we used. It's probably why we can see her at all. Can recognize her existence.”

“I didn't think it was possible to use it this way.”

“Neither did I, but I guess we have proof here.”

“Imagine what we could do with this, or at least the application. Do you think-”

“Brittany, Santana,” Quinn said, “Nerd out about this later. Explanation now, please.”

“It's a curse-ward, Q,” Santana said. “We've talked about them, but decided against ever using them, right?”

“Too dangerous for us, the casters, too hurtful for whoever got it.”

“Right,” Santana replied. “Only now, we know we were correct in it. This is designed to destroy a person, break them down until there was nothing left.”

“How?”

“I can't tell you,” Santana said. “I’d need to study my modifiers again, maybe do some other research if we can get our hands on some new books.”

“How does it do it then? Best guess.”

“Well, given by how she was acting,” Santana said, “And how this is made out-”

“We do have first period, San,” Quinn said.

“I think it makes people stop seeing you.”

“What?” Brittany asked.

“I don't know,” Santana replied. “I mean, I can't tell fully what it does or how it does, and I certainly don't know who or why, but yeah, just a quick analysis, that’s what it does.” Quinn nodded.

They were silent for a while. Quinn sat down fully and reached forward, pulling Rachel in her lap. The girl was freezing cold, and while they could move her, it did not seem like the ideal plan at the moment. Santana shifted so she was holding her feet, rubbing her legs, while Brittany just ran her hands up and down her back slowly, keeping a steady rhythm. Quinn wanted to start rocking. Whether it was for herself or Rachel, she had not decided yet. 

Someone had hurt her. Someone had done something terrible to her. With magic. Of all things, with magic. That was the first rule they made, one they forced each other to follow with the greatest care and devotion: never harm another. There was no reason to. Magic was like a gun, except with no safety and an endless clip, with explosive rounds coupled with uranium tips. Magic was a terrible, terrible tool, and had to be handled with great care. What made it worse was that they were forced to teach each other, learn by themselves, without any guidance or preparation. 

But magic was also beautiful. It was life, and joy, and love, and they experienced it together, working with what little abilities they had on a whim, stretching their muscles and teaching themselves whatever they could, taking lessons and ideas from fantasy books. The Unholy Trinity knew how wonderful magic was, and how terrible it could. This would not stand; Quinn would not allow this to happen again or continue. 

“We should get to class,” Brittany said.

“What about her?” Santana asked. She had taken to playing with Rachel's feet, which kicked every time she tickled the little toes. 

“I will take her,” Quinn said.

“Then you won't be noticed,” Brittany replied.

“No, I think it's localized to her,” Santana said. “I can't be certain though. I'll need time to study it. Britts needs to break it down.”

“Quinnie.” Brittany stopped moving, her eyes closed and head down. “This isn't good is it?” Quinn shook her head. “I'll have the numbers by second period, but only Rachel should go unnoticed, probably whatever you do with her as well.”

“Let's get her dressed then,” Quinn said. “Brittany, I will need your sports bra, and Santana your shorts.”

“Barely anything, cap?” Santana smiled, leaning in to Quinn. “Kinky.”

“I did claim dibs, my avenger” she replied.

“I am more surprised you actually knew what that was.”

“Thank you for that vote of confidence in my slang usage,” Quinn said.

They removed Rachel's sticky pants, cleaned her up the best they good, and as Quinn was pull down for the sports bra, the diva woke up. “Huh, what.”

“Here's the deal, hobbs,” Santana said. “My cap has generously decided that you will attend her first period with her while you talk her through everything that led up to this curse on you, and you will do whatever she says. I'm gonna see that these cloths are thoroughly cleaned despite the reservation that they need to be burned.” Brittany shouldered a plastic bag and waved at Rachel. 

“You're scaring her, Sannie,” Brittany said. The Unholy Trinity stood around her, cornering her, but none of them moved. “Rachel.”

The diva turned to her. “Do you believe us?” She did not move. “What if we are just hallucinations? Is that a bad thing?”

“I..I don't know,” She said softly.

“Then why don't you act like you normally would, except we are with you now,” Brittany replied. “We're good hallucinations, and we're here to help you, not hurt you. Sound okay?” Rachel nodded. 

“Good, because as much as I love standing here and staring at a half-naked Berry,” Santana said. “Me and Britts gots Spanish to sleep through.” She locked pinkies with Brittany and the pair walked away, swinging their arms back and forth. 

“We will talk later, okay?” Quinn asked. Santana just waved her free hand in the air, but gave no response.

Rachel said nothing. Quinn turned her attention back to the girl. They were a foot apart, and as much as she loved seeing the diva naked, this was probably a better outfit then nothing at all. Something about highlighting and yet covering every sexual characteristic made Rachel even more attractive. It was about the teasing, not the pleasing. The red sports bra fit perfectly, and Rachel's small breasts weren't diminished at all. The shorts were a bit small, but she was okay with that, almost seeing the outline of Rachel's, what looked to be a bit wet, pussy. This was turning out to be wonderful, even if Rachel was suffering. Not any more, at least. 

“I do not want you uncomfortable, okay?” Quinn said. It would not do if she was frightened or unwilling in the whole situation.

“Kay.”

“I do want you to feel safe and secure with me,” Quinn continued. She stepped forward; Rachel did not move. “Do you?”

“I don't know.” Rachel kept her eyes down.

“What's the problem?” She lifted her chin up, though Rachel's eyes remained focused on her chest for a second. Quinn smiled. “Am I attractive to you?” She nodded. “How attractive?”

“Quinn, you’re,” Rachel stammered. “God you're so... I've seen you... “

“Little stalker,” Quinn said, smiling. Rachel had the decency to blush. “I guess we are even then.” She slid her gaze slowly down her, pausing at those glorious red shorts. Rachel did not respond, though, and Quinn smile grew larger. “No, you have done more? Perhaps you should tell me during class, we can have a good heart to heart.”

“You won't be seen then,” Rachel replied. 

“Things will work out,” Quinn said. “Do you want this?”

“Huh?”

“Do you want to join me,” she replied. “I do not want to force you anywhere you do not want to go, little stalker. You have been hurt too much, and I am sorry for my role in your past, but at least now, now I can help.” She dropped her eyes a bit before looking back at Rachel's. “Maybe do a bit more.”

“Are you gay?” Quinn laughed. “Not to be rude or anything, but I think you're coming onto me, and as hot as that is, Hallucination-Quinn, I'd prefer that if I lost my virginity, even in a dream-like state, that it at least be in a bed, or maybe even a couch, and I would prefer at least that we got to know each other a bit more given our turbulent past, though that is not a requirement. If you are going to disappear on me, I would at least like some tenderness if possible, though a bit of foreplay would not go unappreciated.”

“I thought you wanted to wait until you twenty five and won a Tony.”

“While I am shocked that you remember that, even surprised because I never told you that since we were at best frenemies during middle school, this whole isolation-purgatory situation has refreshed my priorities.”

“Into sex?”

“Well,” Rachel blushed and stepped back. “I have been alone, and as a teenager, it seemed like a good time to explore things.”

Quinn laughed and took Rachel's hands. “Let us gather your books before venturing forth to class.”

“Is that a line from Baldur's Gate; I just started playing that given the amount of time that I was alone, Hallucination-Quinn, and by the way, the reference is just solidifying my resolve that you are a figment of my imagination, and while the game play is a bit dated, the story wasn't atrocious, but it lacked a certain flair.”

“How long lacked someone to talk to, Rae?”

“A pet name? My very own?”

“A nick name, maybe, we will see how this next period, maybe the day, goes before we adjust the title to pet, my little stalker, but I would like an answer.”

“Holiday Break.” Rachel said. She pulled away and bent down to pick up her books, which were thankfully spared. She didn't want to have this conversation, ever, despite being able to talk to even just a figment of her thoughts. 

“Since May?”

Rachel shook her head. 

“Words please, Rae,” Quinn said, kneeling next to her to help gather her things. 

“January.”

“This all started in January?” she nodded. “Then we will certainly let you get all the words you want out of you, especially since it appears we three are the only ones who see you.”

“Or I am the only one who sees you three.”

“That is an acceptable point of view at the moment,” Quinn replied. “Ready to attend my class.”

“Better than wandering the halls, I guess,” Rachel said.

“Do not worry, I will let you sit on my lap,” Quinn smiled. She rubbed the back of Rachel's hand with her thumb as they started to walk, though skipped might be a better word for Rachel. She had life in her step, a smile on her face. It hurt Quinn to see it, if only due to the absence that she knew was prior to the whole event. 

Whatever happened to the diva, the beautiful siren, Quinn would find out and make them pay, if only to make herself feel better of all the pain she caused Rachel. Not because she was an extremely attractive woman who could probably do better than the Head Bitch in Charge in high school. At least, there was some hope that she was probably bi-sexual at the minimum, so maybe she had a shot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stupid graduate school…. Well, not stupid, just time consuming… and video games, I should not have bought FFXIV and Pokemon X, but sue me, I enjoy them. 
> 
> Alright, next chapter is up and ready, and I’m currently waiting on my beta for Dirty Paws for chapter 8, but they’re at New York comic con. Go them! I’m starting a pokemon fapezberry story, so yay! This was rather fun to right, mainly because I’m really getting into the dynamics of the group, plus I really really like Santana. So’s just… so free and fun. 
> 
> Anyways, I don’t own glee, cause if I did, Quinn would have been front and center with Rachel as a parallel character to show the other side of the high school culture and her own demons. 
> 
> As always read and review,  
> SurrealSteamPuckk(WeOffendedShadows)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rachel found that sleeping in Quinn's lap was surprisingly comfortable. First period, some basic, maybe, she wasn't paying attention really, a math course, she kept her silence, trying to ignore the fact that she was wearing a sports bra, that fit kinda nice, and a pair of shorts that squeezed her and probably gave an excellent camel toe and was practically lounging in the lap of the head cheer leader.

Rachel found that sleeping in Quinn's lap was surprisingly comfortable. First period, some basic, maybe, she wasn't paying attention really, a math course, she kept her silence, trying to ignore the fact that she was wearing a sports bra, that fit kinda nice, and a pair of shorts that squeezed her and probably gave an excellent camel toe and was practically lounging in the lap of the head cheer leader. Not that anyone could see her, really, but somehow she felt more exposed wearing it instead of just being naked. Quinn did not pressure her or ask her for anything other than just to stay in her lap, which was a chore in first period with the small desks, but Rachel made it work. No one noticed her, as usual, and they still interacted with Quinn, which was fine. She wasn't jealous, really. It's not like didn't Quinn deserved the attention since she was practically a goddess walking amongst them.

Second period, science, was a bit more comfortable seating, with Rachel being able to curl up in Quinn's lap, and she passed out while the rest of the class watched a movie. Quinn was silent the entire time, but like first period, gave her glances and secret smiles, a hand slid along her legs while the other just rested on her back, keeping it warm in the cool school. Rachel didn't remember much, but woke up drooling down the front of Quinn's cheerleader uniform just as the bell was ringing. 

Third period was when she felt the need to talk.

Quinn sat down in a chair and Rachel promptly fell into her lap, wrapping her arms around her neck. She got herself comfortable, shimming until she was sideways and swinging her legs in the air. Quinn held her back up, making sure she wasn't going to fall. It was sweet of her hallucination, really. The other hand remained on her legs, thighs really and tapped a random pattern on her legs. “I've masturbated to you in the bathroom.”

“Really?”

“Yep,” Rachel said, smiling the entire time. It wasn't something she was embarrassed about. In fact, it was a great day. 

“While I was using it, or-”

“Nope, that's just disgusting,” Rachel replied. “No, while you were showering after gym. I followed one day and just watched you, well, you and Santana and Brittany. It's probably what you're so life like, Hallucination-Quinn.”

“How life like am I?” She asked, smiling back.

“I'm glad you asked that, Hallucination Quinn, that's rather long, can I call you something else? HQ? Hal? Lucy?”

“I went by Lucy in elementary,” Quinn said.

“I did not know that, Lucy, thank you very much,” Rachel said; it was probably just a lie to fill in blanks that she didn't know about Quinn. “Back to the topic at hand, I have seen and studied your body for the purpose of masturbatory aids, which, I’ll be honest, Lucy, as you probably know already since you are just from mind, I have used quite frequently.” Quinn raised an eyebrow but did not say anything. It was rather sexy, and Rachel kinda regretted being put into a pair of shorts that made it easy to show her hallucination just how wet she was getting. “Because of this, I happen to know your body pretty well. Yours, Santana's and Brittany's.”

“You do?” Quinn asked.

“Yep,” Rachel said with a pop. “It's probably why you three appeared before me and are now tormenting me with your presence. You were my favorite targets.”

“So what did you exactly do while you were-”

“Invisible?” Rachel said. “Nothing had really changed at first, until about a month, I wasn’t being called on. Two weeks later, the friendly acquaintances I had possessed, both here in school and at my lessons, stopped talking to me. Then the cashiers and waiters, then the people on the internet who I conversed with over various topics. A couple weeks before school ended was when I started my exploration of myself and others.”

“Oh?” Quinn asked, smiling. “Where did you start?”

“The boy's locker room.” Rachel shook her head. “There wasn't much to see there, though Noah had an excellent body that did become part of my masturbatory aids, as he was certainly the fittest and the biggest. In many ways. Everyone else was kinda boring.”

“Yes,” Quinn said, “Brittany said that Puck was able to turn anyone straight or gay; though his standards are changing this year as well, I think he's exploring himself too.” She smiled. It was nice, a lie, but nice.

“Good for him,” Rachel said, “These lies are certainly making me feel better, thank you Lucy.”

“You are welcome, Rae,” Quinn replied. “Continue?”

“Of course,” Rachel looked around. “Sure you don't want to attempt to make it look like you are actually part of this course, as to hold up the fact that you are lying to me about being real, thus maintaining your hallucination-based torture of me?”

“I have a more interesting topic in my lap at the moment.” Quinn smiled and Rachel shifted in her lap, trying to relieve some tension. Maybe it was too warm for these tight clothing. 

“Fine then,” Rachel said. “As I was saying, Noah was the only real boy worth watching, though Michael Chang also was rather finely built, though I found I do not necessarily care for the soft-spoken attitude he had, I will admit, the dancer's body he possesses is absolutely beautiful and stunning, just look at my memories and it, go on. I'll wait.”

Quinn shook her head and started to caress Rachel's leg. 

“You sure? Fine then,” Rachel breathed out unevenly as Quinn's hand drifted a bit further up her leg then she realized. “After attending the boy's locker room and being disappointed by them and their rather disgusting behavior, I found myself in our locker room, attempting to enjoy the female body. Most left things to be desired. And don't get me wrong, many of them, especially the harpies you call Cheerios, Lucy, were physically beautiful, but I just don't see that. Your physical nature is limited by your emotional and moral one; the Quinn I saw was absolutely stunning and I am sure I built it up even further, hence why you look so perfect, Lucy, as the real Quinn is such a bitch sometimes, hence ugly at those moments.”

“I cannot apologize enough for that,” Quinn said. Rachel ignored the tears forming. “The hurt I have caused you, the embarrassment. I-”

“Don't get upset, Lucy, it wasn't you, it was real Quinn, who is probably in some other classroom, I haven't memorized her schedule this year, just her gym period to perv on her when I didn't want to attend class or got bored or horny or any excuse really.” Quinn nodded, swallowed deeply but said nothing. “Anyways, in the locker rooms, I watched you girls, and it was just fascinating how beautiful and good you were, but only to each other, especially after all the hell you two, not Brittany, she's always been sweet and kind and kinda awesome, really, but you two have such a horrible act within the school, it was almost hard to accept your beauty. So I watched you. I followed you guys after practice and you looked so, I don't know at peace. It wasn't like your school selves.”

“This has to do with you fingering yourself to me how?”

“I have yet to have anything penetrate me, thank you very much,” Rachel said. “You are a poorly informed hallucination, Lucy.”

“I will endeavor to do better, Rae.”

“I'd appreciate that, this explaining stuff is tedious.” The hand slowed down a bit, though it now ranged from the top of her knee to just before the end of the shorts. The hand on her back started rubbing slow, easy circles. “So, given the fact that I got to watch three beautiful women, who were the ideals of beauty for me, mind you, shower and then after one practice have sex? It was just too much.”

“You have watched us having...” Quinn struggled to bring herself to say the word.

“Yep,” she popped the p again. “You were in between Santana's legs as she made out with Brittany and fucked her with her fingers. It was an absolutely lovely image that I briefly saw before running home and rubbing myself until I was exhausted. I stopped following you after that, given the invasion of privacy, at least for a week or so. Never did catch you having sex again, but I still enjoyed looking at your bodies. I watched your practices.”

Quinn just nodded. 

“Hence, why you are a masturbatory aid hallucination. Oh maybe I should use you as such. That might be fun. Making you Lucy watch me as I play with myself, right in front of your desk, and-”

The bell rang, finishing her thought of what to do given the situation. Hallucination-Quinn stood up, sliding Rachel to floor as she did. She didn't drop her hand, which Rachel was rather happy about. At least her mind was giving her something to make her happy, something to cope.

The rest of the school day went by easily, with Quinn taking an evaluative test in English, so Rachel kept quiet, for the most part. She started to hum as she played with Quinn's pony tail, enjoying the feel of her hair. These details were astounding; she didn't think her mind was even capable of producing such things. Must be smarter than she thought. While Quinn's right arm supported her back and wrote at the same time, Quinn had leaned forward, resting her head against Rachel's chest. Her free hand tapped on her thigh along with her nameless hum. It was nice. 

As they left, Quinn pulled Rachel close, wrapping an arm around her. “Why?”

“Hmm?” she asked, focusing a glare on a jock as they walked down the hall. Rachel stood by as Quinn acted in her role as Head Bitch in Charge; there was a slight perverse emotion in watching as she doled out slushies and bully to jocks and cheerios, but Rachel also took notice of who she was picking on after Santana stopped by before gym. They stood off to the side, watching Quinn in her circle of Cheerios, and Santana explained the entire process. 

Most victims they selected were bullies in some form or another, terrorizing people if they thought they could get away with it. They had to select some students who had done nothing to deserve the wrath, like Rachel, just to keep everyone guessing, but for the most part, Quinn isolated and attempted to break every other bully in the school, systematically ensuring her own power as Head Bitch. 

“High school is a horrible place, Rae,” Quinn said, as they walked to the gym. “You need to understand that when this all started, when Bri, San and I decided we needed to protect ourselves. In middle school, there really was no excuse, but we mostly ignored each other. It was not until I took power here that it started right? The slushing, the bullying, the torment; that was all here prior to us arriving in school. We took charge if nothing else to keep ourselves safe.”

“By picking on me?” Rachel asked. She wasn't accusing her hallucination of anything; these were just her own rationalizations, though they sounded pretty good.

“You ever see how little boys act around girls they find attractive?” Quinn asked.

“Noah used to pull on my pig tails and knock me over in the sandbox,” Rachel said. “Like that?”

“Exactly.” 

“Then, what...what does that...oh.” Rachel paused, her mind going over every one of her actions, Quinn's actions, the past couple of years. Twelve through fourteen was a mostly quiet period, with very few interactions, though mostly stares from far away, as Rachel had been dealing with her own puberty, and lack of development in both height and breasts. At least exercise had kept her extremely toned. 

The Unholy Trinity was perfection, though in eighth grade, and Rachel admitted to herself back then that she was jealous. Maybe that was why she was so loud and in people's faces about her talent, her voice, because that was all she had. Rachel Berry was, after all, just a short, ugly girl who didn't really have friends. People had to like her for her voice; it was that good, and she had nothing else to offer.

While it sucked that she was invisible, Rachel did a great deal of introspection in between bouts of mischief and perving. And she learned more about herself than she wanted to, at least emotionally and intellectually. She did not deserve what she had been put through: the slushies, the names, the pornographic pictures, or the disappearance of herself from the world. None of it. But she did deserve the dislike of her peers because of her arrogance and her demeanor. Rachel wasn't going to change who she was, but she could at least change how she presented that person.

“Rae?” Quinn asked. She had changed (damn she missed it) into her gym uniform. That showed nothing of the body underneath. It didn't have to. Quinn wore the white t-shirt and baggy red shorts as though it were a Queen's dress for a royal ball, and she carried herself in the same. “I figured we could just run today. I do not feel up to the rest of gym, and the teachers let me as I please to prepare for practice.”

“oOkay,” Rachel just stared at Quinn's breasts. “Are you wearing a bra?”

She laughed. Full, and loud, and long, and so beautiful that Rachel could have sworn she was singing. “If you had followed me like I had expected, you would know that, would you not?” Rachel nodded. “Come, you are dressed enough to run with me, and I do not feel comfortable letting you out of my sight.”

“What if I have to use the restroom?”

“I will go with you and wait for you.”

“Kay,” Rachel didn't want to know why her hallucination was so protective or needy or wanting to stay in her sight at all times. Probably because she ceased to exist if she left her sight, which would meant her hallucination had some sort of awareness of itself and then-

“Ready?” Quinn asked. She picked up her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. Rachel nodded. 

They ran for the full forty minutes. There weren't many people who could keep up with her, and it was nice to have someone next to her step for step. Though Quinn was winded when they finished. “God bless it,” Quinn said, trying to take as deep of breathes as possible. “You...your...”

“That was a nice warm-up,” Rachel said, smirking. She could probably run for another couple hours or so if she slowed her pace down. The run wasn't really appropriate for long distances, but it was nice to do occasionally.

“I hate you so much right now,” Quinn said. She was bent over, breathing heavily, and glistening (did she not sweat; totally unfair). 

“Too fast?”

Quinn just nodded.

“Seems you aren't well exercised Lucy, you should fix that, kay?” Rachel smirked and walked over. Quinn looked up at the diva and licked her lips, her eyes focusing on- “How rude.”

“It is right in eye-level, Rae,” Quinn replied. “And I have lunch after this so...” She stood up slowly, this time keeping her eyes on Rachel's and licked her lips. 

“That was very crude and uncalled for,” Rachel crossed her arms and spun around. Quinn wrapped hers around Rachel and hugged her close. 

“But completely true,” she said. “I do not apologize for staring. You are incredibly beautiful, and you have been a distraction all morning.”

“Of course, I've sat on your lap-”

“In skimpy shorts and a sports bra, both accent your curves so very well,” Quinn said. “Let's go shower.”

“So I’ll get to see you naked?” She couldn't keep the glee out of her voice. 

Quinn laughed and nodded; she started walking, but held onto Rachel, forcing the girl to keep steps with the taller cheerio. “And I you. That is the price, fair?”

“Sweet,” Rachel said. 

The shower was sadly uneventful. Quinn was ever the gentlewoman though did let Rachel stand close enough to touch her and get a close up look at her perv-idol. Who had more flaws, at least physically, then she had noticed before. It was disheartening to see her mind was not as accurate in recreating Quinn as she had hoped.

The rest of the day was equally delightful and disappointing. Delightful, in that, despite it being just a hallucination, Rachel had someone to talk to and it was the hottest girl in school, who seemed to have a crush on her, she loved her lack of sanity at the moment for giving her such an outlandish, but nevertheless, great gift. Disappointing in that said hallucination did nothing about how horny Rachel was. She wished it would at least take care of the problems it was causing.

Lunch was with Santana and Brittany. Rachel designated to Quinn's lap, though they shared a completely vegan, she remembered, that was sweet, salad. Santana gave her a hard time, as was expected, though Brittany was all smiles. It was nice, having friends, even if they were false and she had lost her mind.

The school day ended, and Rachel stood at the front doors, watching as everyone left. Save the Unholy Trinity. 

Quinn stood off to the side, leaning against the doorway, looking so calm and smooth while doing so, it was almost unreal. She hadn't moved or anything, just glared at the masses as they left. The head Cheerios looked like she was carved from stone, marble, she was so perfect. Damn, Rachel needed a better word; that was getting redundant. 

Santana and Brittany sat on the top step, talking about something in one of Brittany's notebooks. They were whispering, glancing back and forth as students parted around them, voice almost disappearing when someone stepped too close. 

Rachel was left standing in the middle, the crowd parting around her. Once the last person left, she turned and saw Quinn standing in her personal space. “You okay?”

“You're still here?”

“Yes,” Quinn replied. “Though we do have practice to attend.”

“Rachel?” Brittany said, standing up. “We need to test this.”

“Test what, Hallucination-Brittany,” Rachel asked.

“That, well and you and us seeing each other.”

“I don't...what?”

“You are going home, Rae,” Quinn said. She hugged the girl tightly. So her hallucinations would be coming with her then, right? “We are attending practice and then head home ourselves. Separately.”

“No,” Rachel said. As much as this was not real, she didn't want to make it stop. “Please, no, don't leave me Lucy.” 

“I will not, Rae,” Quinn squeezed her tightly, rubbing her hands on her bare back, “I promise you that.”

“Tomorrow,” Brittany said, “you're gonna be with me.”

“Huh?”

“Like how you were with Quinn today.” Brittany continued. “You're gonna do that with me. Then you'll go home by yourself.”

“Okay,” she drew out the word.

“Thursday will be with Santana, who will play nice,” Brittany said. “Then home again.”

“Why...why are we...you,” Rachel asked.

“I need data, Rachel,” Brittany replied. “I need to make sure this isn't a fluke or anything like that. For your sake and ours.” This sounded nothing like the Brittany she knew. “This is the best way to test my theory.”

“What theory?” Rachel pulled in tighter, trying to take all the warmth and softness and smoothness from Quinn, remember it, so that when the hallucination ended, she wouldn't be completely empty. 

“About this, I'll explain tomorrow when I wrap it around my head better, kay?” Rachel nodded. 

“Friday, you'll be with Quinn again,” Santana said, “and then you'll come home with us. Britts will know enough by then, and we'll be impatient enough to want you at all times.”

“Okay, little stalker?” Quinn asked. 

“When did you learn about this?” 

“Just now.” 

“Hence the anger.”

Quinn laughed. “Right, hence the anger. You have been able to read me too much in our time together.”

“I told you,” Rachel muttered into Quinn's uniform. “I've perved on you enough to know a lot about you.”

“You will learn there is a lot more to us then you think,” Quinn replied. “But we will be here, early tomorrow. Please, please, show up.”

“I don't want to go.”

“If we are really hallucinations, then we won't be here,” Santana reasoned. “Especially if we are here to torment you.”

“You could just be doing this to remind me that I am truly alone,” Rachel replied. Quinn squeezed harder. 

“Which is why we're showing you all of us,” Brittany said. “No masks, no secrets. By Friday, you'll know more about us than you'll want to.”

“O...kay,” Rachel said. She wasn't going to cry. This did not suck as much as she thought it did. These were just hallucinations and she was still alone. “Can I...no, you don't exist so I can't call you, can I?”

Quinn pulled back and grabbed Brittany's notebook and pen. She tore out a page and wrote on it. “When you are struggling tonight, call me. When you think that this is over and we are not coming back to see you. You call me. Okay? Do not dare do anything else.” She spoke so harshly, an order from the head cheerio. Rachel nodded, holding the page close to her chest. 

“And dress in a sundress or skirt tomorrow,” Brittany said, smiling. “But panties too, else Quinn will get upset that her dibs has been broken.”

Santana laughed and hugged the blonde. 

They said their goodbyes, and Rachel wished it wasn't forever, but somewhere she felt it would be. The Unholy Trinity leaving her as quickly as they came. This just sucked.

******

The next morning, sitting on the front steps of McKinley High was a very excited Brittany S Pierce, who rushed over to her and hugged her tight enough to make breathing difficult, just a little bit. 

Rachel called Quinn last night, or started to, but hung up as she figured the hallucination would just talk to her without the phone and attempting to talk to nothing for two hours before crying herself to sleep. The morning sucked without her coffee and they were still out of berries and now soy yogurt, so she hadn't eaten. But Brittany was excited.

“Here,” Santana said through a mouthful of food, shoving a bag into her hands “Brittany cooked this morning, and Quinn is bringing drinks for us.”

“What?” Rachel said. Her hallucinations were back, after begged them to show up for hours just so she could hear someone's voice, but no one ever replied. 

“It's vegan, don't worry your tight ass off about it,” Santana replied. “Decent too.” 

Rachel looked down in the bag where she found a breakfast burrito with probably fake egg, but first bit told her it was so much more. Better than anything she made for breakfast (she learned quickly that Rachel Berry and open flame do not necessarily mix well). “This is...”

“Fucking amazing right?” Santana said. “Britts is awesome at the morning's food. Even if it is food that other food eats.”

“Hey,” Quinn said. Rachel turned around and smiled brightly. Her favorite hallucination was back, carrying four large cups of what she could only guess was coffee, or possibly tea.

“Hey, Lucy,” She said. 

“Vegan-soy chai latte with cinnamon. Coffee Black. Milk with a dash of coffee too much sugar. And green tea with honey and vanilla extract.” Quinn handed out the drinks, with Santana grabbing her milk concoction quicker than Rachel thought possible. Brittany smiled grabbed the chai tea and handed it to Rachel before taking her coffee. “Hope I got the orders right.”

“You are a god send,” Santana said. 

“I'm amazed that the color even changed on your drink, San,” Quinn smirked. “What's the point if-”

“Because American coffee sucks and this is actually cheaper than an expresso, kay?” Santana glared, but continued to drink and eat, ignoring everyone else.

“Don't mind her,” Brittany said. “She's just upset she has to wait til tomorrow to have you.”

“Have me? I am not a possession,” Rachel said, stomping a foot. 

“No, but you are friend,” she replied. “And someone hurt you. Terribly.” Rachel looked away, but Brittany gripped her chin lightly and made her face her. “And until we figure out how to fix it, we'll take care of you and be there. For now, that means you're our responsibility.”

“When did you get so reasonable?” she asked.

Santana barked out a laugh. “She's always this way, same as Quinn is kind and protective.”

“And Santana is a cuddle whore,” Quinn added, the smirk up to ten thousand volts. 

“Shut up,” Santana replied and hunched over her food. 

“They're right though,” Brittany said, “we just act the way we do to keep ourselves safe, and the school under control. It's better to go with the expectations then fight against them. In our coven, we can be who we want to.”

“Bri,” Quinn pleaded.

“No, she has a right to know just what happened,” Brittany glared, actually full on angry-mode glared at Quinn. Which was strange. She thought that her hallucinations would get along. “You don't want to hurt her, fine, then I'll deal with it, make her understand. I'll be the bad guy.”

Quinn walked up the stairs quickly and wrapped the other blonde in a hug. “I hate when you are so logical,” she said. “I just-”

“If we want her to be our plus one, she needs to know.”

“Huh?” Rachel said. She tried the burrito and Santana was right, this was more delicious than anything she had. And the tea just made even better. Best of all, they remembered she was vegan.

“You be joining us,” Santana barked out. “So get used to this.”

“I'm gonna be the fourth member of the Unholy Trinity? That doesn't-”

“No, in magic three plus one is more than four. Addition is greater than summation. I'll explain later kay?” Happy-Hallucination-Brittany was back, and things were right in the world. “Come, you get to hang out with the smart kids for a while, let's enjoy it before Sannie gets to you and you learn nothing that day.”

“I resent that,” Santana shouted, but the pair had already left for first period.

The day went by quickly, with Brittany ignoring the teachers and other students, focusing all her attention on Rachel. With Quinn, she was held close but not close enough. Brittany seemed to favor having Rachel sit on the desk in front of her, facing her, so they could talk and she could share notes and writings with her. They didn't pay attention once to class, instead getting lost in their own world. The teachers apparently thought Brittany was sleeping. Santana smirked at them whenever Rachel looked over first period. 

Apparently, magic existed. Her mind must have worked some overtime to come up with that, though it was the only reasonable, but not logical, explanation regarding her situation. And there were rules and guidelines and drawings and symbols and wills and foci and a lot of stuff. Took three periods of Brittany talking, going slow and making sure that Rachel actually understood it, even though it was more complicated than a dance routine. 

She was smart. Not just that she knew things, but Brittany made connections and formed ideas quicker and better than anyone she knew. Prior to her invisiblement, Rachel maintained a pretty good GPA, and she knew the same with Quinn and Santana. Brittany tended to be this dumb blonde stereotype, spouting out the most random things. But this was nothing like the Brittany she masturbated to. 

Which was kinda nice. Quinn was extremely caring and protective, guiding Rachel through the school and watching over her. Brittany taught her about the world they were dragging her into, explaining what she could and giving her a basis to build from and create her own ideas and thoughts about the whole situation. Maybe her mind was better at this hallucination stuff than she thought. 

Gym was awesome, because Brittany actually kept pace and wasn't tired at the end of the period, even wondering if they could do more. Even better, she made Rachel shower with her, standing just in front of her, blocking her body from the rest of the girls and letting her touch and soap her up. It was awesome. 

Brittany was open, free with her words and ideas, letting Rachel make guesses and be part of the conversation. They talked. A lot. And she had fun again, even though she was just with a hallucination. There were aspects of her body that were different than she remembered from her perving times, subtle flaws she hadn't seen before. In reflecting back, she saw similar things on the perfect girl, though she figured that made her only near-perfect. Neither of them were what she believed them to be. 

The next morning with Santana was even stranger. After the morning greeting on the steps(she was relieved the hallucinations were back), with some fantastic trail mix with a vegan cinnamon muffin from Brittany and tea as provided by Quinn, Santana latched on and would not let go. An arm around her, pressing her body next to hers, or at bare minimum, having Rachel hold her elbow. She felt like she was going to be escorted around the building, which was awesome. Brittany kissed both of their foreheads and ran ahead with Quinn, smiling over some silly cartoon show she watched the night before. 

Where Quinn talked about Rachel's past and what led up to this, Brittany discussed the how, Santana favored the who. In first period, the Latina positioned her so that she was straddling her. The sundress, she wore at request again, at least covered most of her legs, and her gold star, comfortable boy shorts gave her even more modesty. Santana held her close and spoke softly, staring at her with adoration and care and sweetness, even more than Quinn. 

Throughout the day, she spoke of each of them, the masks they wore, and how they had these roles to play. Santana talked about their past and the decisions to use magic as a means of having their own thing, something they controlled and were freed by that decision. She mentioned their relationship, a threesome, and how Rachel would be a welcomed plus one, or part of the threesome and one of them the plus one, however it would work out, they'd make it work.

Rachel wanted to believe her. She really did. These were not the people she knew, or thought she knew from observation. Never, ever, in all her days of stalking, would Rachel expect Santana to be as kind and, for back of a better term, loving as she was, as cuddle-hungry as she was. 

Each period, Santana would position Rachel so she sat as close as possible and snuggled into her, sometimes her shoulder or breasts, or once her stomach, was tickled every time she breathed in and out. It was nice, for lack of a better word. Wonderful, in fact, Santana, the right hand of Quinn, who could put fear into Michael, the archangel himself, was physically affectionate, tender really. Like how Rachel wanted to be.

She so wanted this, to join them, to be part of them. Each member of the Unholy Trinity spent time with her, befriending her, introducing her to them for the first time, even though she stared and watched and perved on them for weeks on end, through the summer too, though they didn't need to know that yet. 

Physically, from afar, without ever touching them before, they all looked the same, in a way. Strong, firm, and tough women, whose bodies further reflected it in their movements and dimensions. Only Quinn really fit that description, possessing taught muscles underneath soft skin, strong arms and legs that were able to move her and guide her where she wanted Rachel to go. Brittany was angles and lines, though she had the most wonderful hips and limbs that moved with a grace of wind, standing at the tallest of the Trinity. Santana was curves and softness, which wasn't to say that she wasn't strong, but rather she worked for tone and definition mostly, highlighting her physical beauty. The shortest of them, and just barely taller than her, Santana radiated this metaphysical heat that drew people in, to stare at this, well, naturally shaped-porn star appearance. The Latina laughed at the description, letting her feel how real her body was; Rachel struggled to not shiver, though Santana gave her a hard time about the wetness she felt on her legs. 

In gym, Santana kept up with her, though she fought her way to finish, collapsing after it was over. Rachel had asked why she did it, why she forced herself to continue, Santana laughed and coughed out that she wouldn't leave her to be alone again, even if it her hurt. She would protect her.

They would protect her.

Rachel didn't understand it. The Unholy Trinity, the source of her miserable first semester at Lima high, and some minor bullying (was there really anything such as minor when it came to bullying) in middle school, were focused solely on her, helping her, making her laugh and smile and feel happy. 

“You aren't hallucinations,” She said into the phone that night.

Quinn muttered something before finally waking up, “huh?”

“You and Santana and Brittany,” Rachel replied. 

“Yeah, I mean,” Quinn said, “Rae, it's two am.”

“Sorry, I just couldn't sleep and- I'm sorry I woke you.”

“No, Rae, it's fine. Really, I'm just... mornings aren't my thing.”

“You're using contractions?”

“Huh?”

“You're using contractions, you never do that.”

“School-Quinn doesn't. But two am Quinn does. The girls, well, they got me to relax and it's a bit different.”

“Are they with you?”

“No, they went home too, working through this whole mess and trying to figure out just what we can do.”

“Oh,” Rachel replied. She shifted on her bed, trying to comfortable and think of what she wanted to say. 

“You had a question?” Quinn asked.

“Yeah, though,” Rachel sighed, “I don't know if it's worth asking now. I mean, I think I know the answer already and it's clear now that I look at it, and even if it's wrong, I don't think I want it to be so much, so I'm just-” Rachel breathed in deep, trying to slow herself. “Why me? Why now?”

“Rae, it's two am, my brain doesn't really work right,” Quinn said. “So please be specific.”

“All three of you are so interested in me and practically falling over me and it feels real but fake and I just-”

“Rae,” Quinn said, “take a deep breathe okay? Just slow down.” Rachel tried to slow her heart, but this, all of it really, was just too much. The Unholy Trinity wanted her, not just to be a friend, but sexually as well given the amount of flirting she did with each of them. They took her and kept her close and gave her everything that she needed. A voice, a touch, a smile. All directed at her. She was a star again. 

“Why... why are you so interested in me?” Rachel asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You didn't have to drag me to your classrooms, sit in your laps, flirt with me, let me shower with you, you didn't... are you just wanting to take advantage of the fact that I'm nonexistent and you can do whatever you want to me.”

“Not unless you want that.” The tone was meant as playful, Rachel was sure of it. She heard it as such. But that wasn't what she wanted to hear. Her lower lip trembled for a moment, and she let out a shaky breath trying to steady her next words. 

“I...I don't... Please Lucy,” she said, wiping the tears from her eyes. “I just...”

There was no response from the line.

“I'm sorry I bothered you.” Rachel moved to hang up, but Quinn spoke finally. 

“I was not lying to you, Rae,” Quinn said softly. “About why I picked on you. It took a bit for me to understand, to actually recognize it for what it was, to process it.”

“When was it?”

“When what was?”

“About me?”

“Thanksgiving break freshmen year,” Quinn said, “Bri set me straight, San yelled at me until she was hoarse, then they tied me down and made me listen.”

“Made you listen how?” Quinn was silent. “I'd like an answer.”

“Use your imagination, my little stalker,” Quinn said. Rachel could almost hear the smirk; she wanted to see it, really. 

“Oh.” Rachel played with a loose thread from her quilt. “Are you...are they...is sex always on your guys mind?”

“Do you know what magic is, Rae?” Quinn asked. She shook her head, but couldn't speak. “Magic is life, to have it flow through you, to settle within you, to be part of you.” She sighed. “Magic is joy, hate, anger, delight, fear, please. Magic is life, Rae. Without being able to express these parts of ourselves, we could not cast anything, we could not channel it. Sometimes, it is easier to express yourself without words; actions make things more clear. And, for me at least, nothing is more expressive than being with them. Both of them.”

“You mean sex,” Rachel said.

“No,” Quinn laughed. “Though we do that quite a bit too. No, love. I love my girls, I love them more than I can ever express; I love their flaws and their perfections, their moods and their quirks. I love them. And I am not afraid to say that any more, to show it to them, even if no one else sees it.”

“Then...” Rachel tried to breathe in, take in something to calm herself, but the whimper and the tears came nevertheless. 

“Where do you fit in?” 

“Yes,” she breathed out. 

“With magic, we are not afraid of being who we really are, and showing that to people we trust, care, and depend upon. For me, this means people who mean as much as San and Bri do to me, or I should say person.”

“What are-”

“I was going to talk to you after break,” Quinn said, Rachel struggling to hear her voice. “I had stopped the slushies for the most part and I was working up the courage, but I was too late, and I had lost you but did not realize it.” She sounded tired, afraid. As strong as Quinn was talking about emotions in general, her own frightened her. Rachel learned that from Santana, though she didn't see why it was necessary to know.

“Quinn, I-”

“I will not let that happen again,” she continued, sniffing once, maybe twice. “I wanted you with us, Rachel, I wanted you over six months ago to join us and be free to be yourself. You said it yourself, that we wear masks to protect us, right?”

“I told that to Santana yeah,” Rachel replied.

Quinn sniffed again. Was she crying, or fighting back tears? “You know my mask then, the Head Bitch in Charge.”

“Caps and all.” 

Quinn didn't laugh. “I cannot let it slip. It has to stay firm and strong on as long as I am in this town. To let it falter would let worse things in, worse people in control and placing the people I care about in danger. I have to be the princess of my parent's eyes, the ice-queen of McKinley, the head Cheerio. Thankfully, I no longer have to be head of the Chasity club, but I still have to be Miss Perfect.”

“Quinn...”

“Santana's mask grew as a means of protecting me and Bri, though really, it was a response to the bigots of this town as well. Middle school would have been awful for her had she not taken charge and scared everyone into submission, including some teachers. The racism is rampant sometimes, even if it is not direct. 

“Brittany's came from one of our first days of working with magic, when things went a bit odd and she was by herself. The next day at school, she couldn't think straight and struggled in classes. The dumb blonde aspect just stuck.

“Rachel, we live up to these expectations because they protect us, our real selves, from everything that wants to hurt us. Even you.”

“What...Quinn, I don't-”

“The diva is your mask, Rae,” Quinn said. “You have built it to protect yourself and distance yourself just as much as Santana or I have, or Brittany's was forced upon her. You are loud, proud, and big in voice to protect the fact that you are small and fragile. People could focus on you being a diva, instead of you being the daughter of two gay men, and hate you for that over the other. You choose to let them see one thing, diverting all of their attention to it, as a means of protecting the one thing you care about more than anything.”

Rachel pulled her knees close to her chest. This was not going as she expected. She just wanted to know why the Trinity was leading her on. Now she was being returned to her self-reflection period where she had learned this about herself already. But it was strange to hear the words coming from someone else, someone Rachel thought hated her.

“You asked me why we are so open and free with you, Rae,” Quinn said. “Because right now, we do not know any other way. You were hurt and cast aside for some reason that could only be horrible and painful, meant to die alone and forgotten. What other way is there for us to help you, but by being free with our words, our thoughts, our actions? You matter Rae, you matter a great deal.” Her voice was shaky and uneven, even more so. Every once in a while, Rachel heard hitches of breathe; Quinn was rushing, trying to get out as much as she could now. 

“You matter to me, and I refuse to let you go again. I could tell you how important you are to the coven in terms of magic. I could tell you how much you mean to us as the Unholy Trinity, with you being the diva who stood up to us all. I could tell you why you are here in regards school, the town, the world. But none of that matters to me, Rae. What does is your happiness and your care and...and..”

“My love?”

“Yes,” she said, pushing it out with a cough. “Yes, that too. I am... I cannot tell you what you feel, only what I do, and while it is simple to say love and mean another thing, I refuse to apply a title that is not earned by either of us, only one that I would like someday. I have earned that right from San and Bri after being with them so long and finally receiving their trust and care, and I cannot ask of that gift. But I can attempt to earn it from you.”

“Quinn,” Rachel said. It was too much. A girl whom she had crushed on, stalked really, for months now, and that was what she told them, had offered her a great deal.

“So what now?”

“Now?” Quinn replied. “Now we do whatever you want. Brittany has an understanding of this, at least to an extent, and Santana is working through the designs of the inscription on your back. We'll set this right, even with our limited knowledge. But the little things, that's all up to you. If you want us to back off-”

“No!” Rachel sat up in bed. “I mean, no, please, not that.”

“What is it you want then?”

“I...” Rachel had asked herself that question often the past few days. She liked the touching, the physical nature of the girls' relationship, and clearly she was barely seeing anything, but given how they treated and acted around her. She liked the openness. She liked the sexuality and pride in oneself, the desire they gave one other. And to her. “If I wanted to continue.”

“Continue what? We will always be friends, Rachel,” Quinn replied.

“No, the... being in your lap, the...yeah, what we did the past three days,” Rachel said. “I want that.”

“Okay,” Quinn said. “Then you can accompany us-”

“No, I mean,” Rachel interrupted, “I want what we talked about, the being with you. Being part of your coven right? The coven. I want to be with you three.” Quinn said nothing for a bit, and Rachel knew the line still as connected by the breathing into the mic. “Quinn? Is that okay?

“Yes,” Quinn replied. “Yes, that is perfect. With all of us?”

Rachel smiled. “Yes.”

“So, you will be the plus one to our three, or join our three and one of us would be the plus one?”

“You say it so strangely but yes,” Rachel said. “It's moving fast, faster then I'd like, but...I've been alone and done a lot of soul-searching for a fifteen year old, and I...I trust you Quinn. I trust you, Santana and Brittany, all of you have made me feel stay and protected, in a way I wish you did earlier, but I might have been able to tell you the stuff I can now that I have a better idea of who I am and what I want. So, yes. Yes, I want to be with you, all of you.”

“Okay,” Quinn breathed out, “Okay, that would be...fantastic.”

“Okay, Doctor,” Rachel laughed. “So what happens now?”

“Now, we go back to sleep and tomorrow, you'll be with me. Then you'll join us for the weekend and we'll start teaching you what you need to know for the ritual to join the coven, kay?”

“I'd like that,” Rachel replied. “And contractions again? I thought you were awake.”

“Two-AM me isn't the only one who uses them,” Quinn said, a smile in her voice. 

Rachel laughed. “I look forward to seeing more of that you.”

“Then Rae?”

“Yes, Quinn,” Rachel replied.

“Do you have a plaid skirt, dark blue thigh-highs and a white button down shirt?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, almost to more smut. I have two extra chapters of this completed, along with one other of “Dirty Paws” so just bear with me as I work. NaNoWriMo is approaching so my concentration will be on an original piece of fiction, but I probably will still work on these two as a means of breaking the train of thought and getting away from it. 
> 
> This chapter was rather strange to write. I had so much to say, and I really, really, didn’t want to have write out all the dialogue and everything, so I went back to telling. Just easier that way. Rachel’s perception of things was fun to write, given that she is a bit insane having not really interact fully with another human being in a while. 
> 
> Ah well. ::Shameless Plug for other works:: 
> 
> I do not own glee, sadly. We would actually have a program that people still wanted to watch, what with real characters, and personal growth, and true conflict. As always, please read and review. 
> 
> Because I can,  
> SurrealSteamPuckk(WeOffendedShadows)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rachel walked up the steps slowly, each step care and deliberate. Probably because she had never really worn heels before, but also because she was attempting to look sexy. She had possessed the cloths that Quinn requested, and then some, and rocked every last bit of it. 
> 
> The white button down dress shirt was a size too small, unbutton and tied just in front of her breasts, with nothing underneath it, her nipples almost piercing the fabric. The red and white plaid skirt barely came down to a quarter of her thighs and floated as she walked. And Rachel opted for the pig tails. And a sucker in her mouth.

Quinn smiled as Rachel Berry sauntered up the steps to McKinley High. 

“I hate you so much right now,” Santana said. She was leaning on her captain's head, arms wrapped around her neck lightly. “I mean, fucking seriously. How did you-”

“I asked,” Quinn said with a smile. She patted Santana's arm. “Thus be the prize of dibs.”

“I hate you so, so very much,” Santana repeated. 

Rachel walked up the steps slowly, each step care and deliberate. Probably because she had never really worn heels before, but also because she was attempting to look sexy. She had possessed the cloths that Quinn requested, and then some, and rocked every last bit of it. 

The white button down dress shirt was a size too small, unbutton and tied just in front of her breasts, with nothing underneath it, her nipples almost piercing the fabric. The red and white plaid skirt barely came down to a quarter of her thighs and floated as she walked. And Rachel opted for the pig tails. And a sucker in her mouth.

“Quinn did good,” Brittany said. “She's in?”

“Yes,” Quinn replied, “We will be discussing the details of it, her limits if she does not know them yet, and ours, some of the guidelines we have between each other, what she wants from this-”

“How fast it'll take to get her out of her panties.” Santana said with a smirk.

“I'm not wearing any,” Rachel said, stopping just in front of the Trinity. Quinn's knees nearly gave out. Santana's did, placing all her weight on her captain. “What? It's not like you haven't seen me naked.”

“Rachie,” Brittany said, stepping forward. “While it's not about the pleasing, but the teasing, you're being incredibly cruel to Santana at the moment.”

“Why?”

“Because Quinn called dibs,” Santana complained. “So not fair.” She was pouting, which was adorable in itself. 

“You'll share me later,” Rachel said. Brittany caught Santana as she fell back from Quinn, collapsing to the ground. “For now, Quinn has offered to introduce me more fully to the machinations of the group, yes?” Quinn nodded. “Then I want to learn, so take me to your class and let’s get started.” She walked into the school without another word, skirt bouncing just enough to show the top of legs right where they met her ass.

“Work, work, work,” Quinn said with a smile. “See you two at lunch.”

“You better bring the dets!” Santana said. “So not fair.”

“Bri, make sure-”

“I'll make it up to my pouting Sannie,” She pulled the Cheerio up. “C'mon, Rachel's not here with her forgetting aura, so game face.”

“Behave and we will talk later,” Quinn said, before turning and walking calmly after Rachel.

The day had started out with more than she could have hoped for, better than she dreamed after the early morning conversation with Rachel. She had not slept afterward, too worried about what they talked about, Rachel's decision and her willingness to be part of the coven. They were going fast. Faster than she had with Santana and Brittany, faster than when those two started in sixth grade (love at first sight and all that). But if Rachel was okay with it, then she was. 

Quinn found Rachel sitting on her desk, waiting for her, in homeroom, sucking on a new sucker. She did not know if the diva was aware of was their penis spell, but it would end up being a nice surprise for either of them no matter the answer. At least she had her legs cross, though she was basically sitting nude on the desk, her skirt riding up enough. Quinn took her seat and smiled up at Rachel. 

“Hey,” she said. Whatever confidence she had slipped away.

“Hey,” Quinn replied.

“I really don't know what I'm doing,” she said, a shy smile on her face.

“That's okay, we're gonna set the limits first.”

“I'd like that,” Rachel said. The teacher began to take attendance, though Quinn just raised her hand when called, her attention focused on Rachel. 

“Come here.” Quinn held out her arms and the diva slid into her lap. Skin on skin had felt as wonderful as it did the first day they found each other, especially when Quinn spread her legs just enough to make Rachel spread hers, exposing her even more. “You sure you want this?”

“Yep.” The answer came as soon as her question left her mouth. “Definitely. We're moving fast, faster than I'd ever thought, but I'm comfortable with you, which is strange, but I'm assuming it's part of magic.”

“It works in mysterious ways.” Quinn laughed. “Actually, when involved with magic in any form, we found it makes you act more closely to your own desires and self, stripping you of your masks so to speak.”

“I like that,” Rachel replied.

“Me too.” 

The bell for first period rang and, with a pout, Rachel got out of her lap. Quinn smirked as she stood up slowly, getting the chance to play with one of her pig tails. It was only fair as Rachel seemed to enjoy playing with her pony tail. She offered her arm, and they walked out of the room.

First period lacked decent desks, but that would only mean Rachel would return to sitting on top of it, rather in her lap, or eventually pressed against her chest. This was acceptable. Quinn sat Rachel down first, then slide into her seat, smiling up at the diva. “So, first things first. What do you feel comfortable with?”

“In terms of?” Rachel asked.

“Whatever you want this relationship to be,” Quinn smiled. She placed her hands on Rachel's calves and massaged them slowly. The teacher was droning about some project, but the Berry Project was more important.

“I won't do anything with bodily fluids, specifically, blood, urine or feces. Saliva is acceptable in form of kisses and drool, not spit, and since you're all female, I'll accept female ejaculation as well.” Quinn laughed. “What's so funny?”

“Willing to wait for the answer? It'll be more fun if you do?”

“Then fine,” she pouted. “Is that acceptable?”

“Of course, those are some of ours.”

“Well, that's the extent of mine,” Rachel said. Quinn's hands froze. “What?”

“So, anything else is far game?” She asked softly. 

“Yes. I'd try it before declining to do it again.” Rachel smiled down. “I've had a lot of time to surf the internet and honestly, most fetishes are interesting to some degree, very open minded, and I am a curious girl. ” Oh, the possibilities. Santana was gonna murder her.

“It is obvious that you are an exhibitionist.”

“Of course,” Rachel replied, playing with the hem of her dress. “I think by now, it goes without saying.”

“So anal?” 

“Yep.” Quinn smirked.

“Bondage?”

“Sure.” She licked her lips. 

“DP?” 

“Sounds fun.” She shifted in her seat, her spankies slowly growing wetter. That would be a problem. 

“Pain?”

“I'm probably a little bit masochistic given our previous relationship and our current one, wouldn't you say?” Quinn smiled, her hands started to move, though slowly up her legs until they rested on Rachel's thighs. Her mind raced, all the things they could do. What else would the diva do? Something completely outrageous? 

“Bestiality?” Rachel blushed and looked away. “God, you would? That is so-”

“Wrong? Like I said, I'm rather open minded and-”

“Hot,” Quinn said. “I've kinda become the kink girl of our group. How bout dominant and submissive?”

“Preferable, despite my aggression and loud tendencies, I am not a dominant personality, so I believe I would enjoy being told what to do.”

“God, Santana is gonna love you. Bri too.”

“What about you, what are your limits?” Rachel asked. “Tit for tat, I suppose.” She leaned forward a bit, shimming. Despite being small, her tits moved wonderfully.

“Bri and I don't have much, though I am more dominant than anything else, and am not as much of a switch like the girls, though Santana does enjoy topping me up and denying me things. I only let her though, never Brittany and you now. Santana doesn't like being tied up at all. Physically bound with our hands and mouths and bodies, yes, but using any materials is something she hates, terrifies her in fact. She's open to most things, though bondage is really her limit, and unlike you, no bestiality. Also enjoys submitting to both of us, probably you too. Brittany doesn't like being sensory deprived, and prefers her pussy than anal, though accepts it occasionally, depending on if it’s both of us or not. She’s a straight switch, enjoying all aspects of sex. She's a bit more traditionalist, though has a great exhibitionist streak, and willing to just about any position she can bend herself into. Loves giving oral. As do I.” Rachel coughed. “What?”

“You're using slang.”

“Yes.”

“And contractions, I just realized.”

“Yes.” The teacher called on Quinn, and without missing a beat, she responded in her HBIC tone correctly. Turn back to Rachel, she smiled. “Is that a problem?”

“Why are-”

“Two AM-Quinn extremely similar to Horny-Quinn, remember.”

“It's hot, what it is.”

“What about now?” Quinn asked. “Anything you don't want to do right now?”

“Horny?” Rachel smirked, licking around her sucker for a moment. The confidence returned, and her eyes darkened as the pupils grew. 

“You have no idea. But I want to be sure about something, if we're doing this right here, right now.” Rachel nodded, though Quinn wasn't sure if it was to answer the question, or confirm her desires. “You mentioned Tuesday you've never been penetrated. Do you want to-” Rachel leaned forward, giving Quinn a wonderful view of her bare breasts and grabbed Quinn's hand before pulling it under her skirt, letting her feel just how wet she was, how slick they moved on the outside of her, pushing the tip of her middle finger into her. She sat up and moaned, leaning back as Quinn slide up and down. 

“Oh god yes,” Rachel replied. “Just I'd like my virginity lost on a bed, in a house, not school.”

“Everything else fair game?” Rachel nodded. “Good.” Quinn reached up and pulled Rachel by her neck down to her level, kissing her once she reached her. It took a moment for Rachel to get used to her nose pressing against someone else's face, taking breathes when she could, and how much spit they were producing, but she relaxed into it, moaning as Quinn bit her lip once. “God, you smell good.”

“That was a brilliant first kiss,” Rachel murmured against Quinn's lips, flicking her tongue out to lick them. 

“I was...”

“Yes,” Rachel replied. She sat back a bit, pulling away, but Quinn didn't want that. She wanted the diva close as possible. Leaning forward, she wrapped her arms around her waist and pulled her so she was in her lap, stomach to stomachs, the diva's breasts sitting right on top of hers. “It was wonderful.”

“It was sloppy and quick and dirty and-” Rachel shut her up with other kiss, pressing for a moment before letting Quinn take charge, her hands sliding down to hold herself up on Quinn's shoulders. The head cheerio grasped one pig tail then the other and pulled back slightly, and Rachel moan, though the smile told her it was a good thing. A very good thing. The diva tried to hump her legs, but Quinn spread hers to remove any contact with her pussy, leaving only cold air to dance under it. She wouldn't be surprised to hear small drips onto the ground, though the sounds of a horny, little diva would certainly cover it up. “No, not yet.”

“I want-”

“I'll decide that,” she replied, and bit Rachel's neck. Hard enough to leave a mark, but stopping soon enough not to tear skin. The diva moaned even loader and pressed her hips against Quinn's stomach, pushing down and forward. There was no relief for her though. “Oh, the things I'm gonna do to you. The things we're gonna do to you. So many options, and clearly all the time in the world, with school now being an option. Would you like that? Fucking what is probably an extremely tight pussy in front of the school. I'm sure there's an assembly coming up.” Rachel let go of her shoulders and tried to grab her tits, to squeeze and twist her own nipples. Quinn did not like that.

“You're mine,” she growled, moving to hold both wrists in one hand. “Mine to decide what happens today. Isn't that what you wanted?” Rachel nodded. 

“You smell good, Rae,” Quinn said, licking up her artery to her jaw line, then bit her ear and pulled on it. “So good. I wonder, if I were to slide my hand up that sinfully short skirt of yours, or better yet, tear it off and show the school that bare pussy of yours, how soaked would I be?” She danced her fingers down the diva's stomach, lightly touching her, but quick enough she just giggled a bit. Quinn smiled, pushing her hand down the skirt and just above Rachel. 

“Just how submissive are you?” She asked, moving her legs slowly together and apart, letting the diva receive just a hint of pressure as she pressed down. “Would you let collar you, make you crawl on your hands and knees, fuck whoever and whatever I want? Would let me tattoo you, pierce you, claim you in every way I can, all the while keeping that body of yours perfect? Would let me cast spell after spell on you-”

“NO!” Rachel pulled her hands out from hers and pushed Quinn's shoulders back. “No.” Her eyes were closed and she was shaking her head, then started to shake all over. 

“Okay, sweetie,” she said. The play time was over, at least for the moment. “I guess that's a limit for you.”

“I don't... If magic is what did this to me, despite that it has brought me you, I don't.... no, not right now.” Quinn nodded, and leaned forward slowly, before wrapping her arms around the almost crying girl. She shook her head back and forth, but let Quinn hold her. “I can't... please, I'd let... That's the...I'd let you do whatever you want, even if... just no, please no... Please don't make me...”

“Rae,” Quinn said, “Part of this is trust. There are spells I can do, things that change how we have sex and make things different and exciting. But I would never, ever force them on you. San and Bri and I, we know each other, we know the limits.” She rubbed Rachel's back, and tears started to fall; a quick glance at the clock and the paper on her desk, said that class was almost over and they'd have to leave. But Quinn needed her to know what the rules were, how they handled things like this. “We can do them, but only specific ones to each other. And if you say no, there is no questioning it, no forcing the issue. If the answer changes one day, then we'll discuss it then.” 

It took a few minutes, but the diva stopped sobbing and just relaxed in Quinn's arms. “I’m sorry.”

“Don't be,” Quinn replied. “This isn't as bad as Santana responded when we first tied her up.” 

Rachel didn't push the statement. “I still want this,” she said. “I still want you to fuck me, own me, use me. I like that. I like the idea of finally not having to worry about things, at least here. I'm still myself, my own girl, but I can let go and....Quinn?”

“Hmm?”

“Is this what the magic does?”

“Like I said, it reveals more to us about ourselves. The act of accepting it opens you up, and when it slowly enters your body, it forces you to see yourself as you really are, no lies, no illusions. It's how I learned that I was gay.”

“Thank you,” Rachel said.

“For what?”

“For being brave enough to say that to me.” Quinn pulled back slightly. What little make up Rachel wore was smudged and ran down her cheeks. The bell rang, and Rachel sighed heavily, leaning her head against Quinn's shoulder. “Am I ever gonna get to cum?”

Quinn laughed, helped her stand up and led her to the next class. At least the seats would be better there, and she was getting hungry.

Once in science, Quinn turned in her homework, picked up the packet that the hungover teacher decided the students needed to work on, and sat down. Rachel immediately climbed back onto her lap. “We going finish what- hey!” Quinn lifted Rachel up and put her on the desk, her fingers dancing up her legs until they rested the top of her thighs, inches from where she knew she wanted them to be. 

“Maybe, but we still need to talk,” Quinn replied.

“I don't wanna talk,” Rachel whined, and kicked her foot of all things, stomping the air. At least she avoided hitting Quinn, though it was adorable. She pushed the skirt up so the diva was completely exposed to her, glistening and slightly swollen. “I wanna... god.” Quinn ran a finger up her, until she reached her clit and just circled it a few times. 

“Issues need to be resolved before we continue,” she said. “First off, if we do this, you will be part of the coven, three plus one. Do you understand what that means?”

“Kinda?” Rachel replied. Quinn just waved her hand up and down, keeping her forefinger just on her lips. “Please.” The diva closed her eyes and struggled to remain sitting up, swaying a bit as Quinn moved. 

“In a moment,” Quinn said. “It means that we are your family, we are together in this, we share each other's pain and successes, we place each other first, because we are all we really have. Bri hasn't found anyone else like us, and if she did, I doubt we'd be willing to let them join.”

“But I am.” Rachel reached down and grabbed Quinn's wrist, pulling towards her. But she was stronger and just held still. “God, Quinn, just-”

“I will, more than you can imagine, but this is really important. Rae, please, look at me.” Rachel opened her eyes and stared into Quinn's, taking every bit of focus she had to do so. She stopped moving and pulled her hand back, returning them to her thighs. “But we are asking you, not letting you, asking you to be with us. Bri wanted it as early as freshmen year, San, the beginning of summer.”

“And you?”

“Always,” Quinn said without reservation or fear. “I just didn't understand it. We want you with us, to be part of us.”

“Magic draws some of its power through numbers right, concepts too?” Rachel asked. She covered Quinn's hands with her own, leaning down.

“Correct.”

“So the three parts of a casting or doing anything magical really are focus, will, and control, yes?”

“Yes.”

“If you are essentially the will of the group, Brittany the control, and Santana the focus, right?” Rachel asked, which Quinn found a reasonable, if slightly naive way of looking at them, “where do I fit in?”

“Magic is all of that, but what is it really?”

“Life.”

“What is life without emotions.”

“Oh,” Rachel said. She sat back and danced excitedly. “I have another limit.”

“And what is it?” Quinn smiled up at her. A bit random, but good to know.

“I don't want to be shamed.”

“Okay.”

“Like, no calling a slut or whore or-”

“I promise, I'll just praise you for being a good girl,” Quinn said, and Rachel relaxed. “Back to the important topic at hand, not that your limits aren't important, but this is more for the time being. You described me as the will; well that's true, except really, it's more like I'm the lack of control, usually, for the coven. Bri is the control, but more accurately, she's the lack of focus. San's the lack of will. Again, these vary from spell to spell, ritual to ritual, but generically speaking, that’s what it is more often than not.”

“And me? I'd be what then?” Rachel pulled her self close to Quinn, her legs dangling off the counter.

“You are the emotion, but really, it'd be the dancing between the three which you lack at any given time. You fluctuate, hun, depending on the topic at hand, and what your interest in it is.” Quinn traced her fingers along the creases where Rachel's thighs met her hips. “So in turn, when one of is becomes the central focus of the ritual, you can take our place. It should produce better results.”

“How...how are you talking so calmly right now,” Rachel asked. She covered Quinn's hands with her own, stilling them. 

“Because I'm staring at a beautiful treat that I want, but know I need to get this out first,” Quinn said. “What all this is about is making you feel welcome and wanted, not just physically but-” Rachel leaned down and kissed Quinn, pressing herself into her lap again, and wrapping her arms around her neck. The diva mashed her nose again Quinn's cheek, bumping her teeth against hers, and sighed into the grasp as the head-cheerio game into the kiss. 

“As submissive as I am,” Rachel said, “I have been waiting for this chance for seven months, begging for the opportunity for you or Santana or Brittany to do this, so please, please, please, fuck me.”

Quinn laughed. “That answers the question then.” She pushed Rachel back up on the desk. “I want to see something.”

“Quinn,” Rachel whined.

“I want to see, Rae,” Quinn continued, “if you taste at all like your name sake. Lean back a bit, hun.” She scooted forward in her chair and spread Rachel's legs wide, the skirt riding up until it just sat at her hips. Before Quinn was smooth, clean, wet morsel begging her to eat. She held her legs wide, pushing them so she could slide her shoulders underneath them, and with a gentle tug, pulled Rachel forward until her ass was just on the edge of the counter, her pussy inches from Quinn's mouth. “Smells so good.” She leaned down and stuck her nose just above Rachel's clit and breathed in deeply. “Do you taste as well?”

She flicked out her tongue against her, and Rachel bucked, pushing her hips up. Quinn smiled against her pussy, her lips now just resting on it. “I've wanted this for a while, Rae,” her breathe hot against the wet skin. “So very, very much.” Quinn pushed in further, sucking at her, trying to keep all of Rachel beneath her. 

Her breathing became erratic, but Rachel tried to grab her hair and push her down further, but was unable. A quick flick of her wrist, and the pony tail was gone, and Quinn's hair was filled with Rachel's fingers, scrapping against her, pulling tightly. 

A soft lick of her clit, a deep breathe of her, swallowing the sweet liquid of her, so close to mixed berries, it was frightening. That is not right, Quinn thought, but she didn't pull her mouth away. Letting go of one of Rachel's legs, she slide her hand beneath the diva and slipped a finger inside, her tongue following upward until it reached her clit again, lips dragging themselves against her. 

“God,” Quinn murmured, her mouth just above her pussy now, a second finger was added to the motion. “So good.” Rachel wrapped her ankle around her other, and held Quinn's face in. She laughed as she was pushed harder into her. 

“Quinn,” she whinned again. “Please, I-” She hiccuped and stopped breathing for a second, but Quinn didn't stop. She kept sliding her fingers in and out, enjoying how tight she felt. Once given the chance, she would stretch Rachel out so much, Santana even more, her spankies were soaked now, and it was incredibly uncomfortable, but both hands were occupied. One hand on Rachel's legs and the other sneaked up to grab a nipple, pushing aside the shirt. 

A kiss, a lick, a twist, a deep breathe in. She kept no pattern or pace, just moving with Rachel, pushing hard enough to slide her on the smooth desk, only to pull her back by use of her neck and shoulders until her ass hung off the counter, Quinn's body the only support Rachel received below the waist. The diva locked her legs around her neck and pulled her tighter.

Quinn tried to still herself, but was enjoying the moment too much. She paused smiling against Rachel and looked up. The diva sat up the best she could, her ass dangling in the air. She kissed her, softly, then harder, and harder, licking and sucking, nuzzling against her. Rachel leaned back down, taking quick shallow breathes before she went silent and stopped breathing all together. But her eyes never left the head-cheerio's. 

She twisted and turned her fingers inside her, licking her folds, kissing her softly, pushing in with her tongue and dragging it up to her clit where she sucked gently. Rachel moaned again, and Quinn could have sworn she felt the vibrations travel down the diva's body into her. Both her hands were busy, one inside her pussy, the other holding onto a breast and squeezing it, moving it around, holding the nipple in her fingers and twisting every other breathe or so. Rachel held a hand on top of hers, keeping her connected to her tits. 

Quinn pushed in deeply, her knuckles rubbing against Rachel's skin, curling her fingers up and sucking just hard enough on Rachel's clit. The breathing didn't continue. In a middle of a breathe, Rachel arched suddenly, bucking up and down, almost giving Quinn whiplash as her legs swung about. But she held tight to her hips, pushing her down, enjoying as she squirted, a fun revelation, all over her. 

Quinn didn't stop sucking or fucking Rachel, she kept pushing the girl further and further, refusing to let her just ride the orgasm out, but continue to make it longer and longer, feeling the warmth of her legs holding her close. “No, please, no more,” Rachel forced out between breathes, twisting from shoulder to shoulder, until she slide almost off the counter. Quinn grasped her hips and stilled her the best she could, pushing her locked legs apart, and pulling her down into her lap. 

Rachel hadn't stopped shaking, though at least her limbs relaxed a little bit. She started breathing again, thankfully. The bell rang, and the class shuffled out. Quinn held on to her diva, smiling into her hair as she attempted to get her breathing under control. Rachel rested just under her chin, curling into her lap, gripping her shoulders tightly. One of Quinn's hand held her head, the other rubbed her back. “You okay there,” she asked. Rachel nodded. “Too much?” Shook her head. “Up for round two?” Another shake. “Okay, well, then we need to head to third period. Up and at'em.”

Rachel didn't move for a second or two, but a pitch of her ass, she slowly stood up, her legs shaking a bit. “I've... that's... that was new,” she said, holding on to Quinn to steady herself. 

Quinn froze as she stood up. First, she stole Rachel's first kiss, then, essentially stole third base from her, as well as her first orgasm. In a couple of hours, she would possess Rachel's virginity. This, this wasn't right; she was moving too fast, pushing the girl further than she wanted, even she said so, and now, now they just basically had sex, because oral sex is still sex, hence the name, in classroom, and Quinn was acting more like a teenage boy obsessed it, pressuring-

Rachel pushed Quinn back down, straddled her legs again and kissed her, pressing her lips as hard as she could, pulling herself tightly against the head cheerio. Quinn didn't relax into it; she couldn't. She barely felt it. Somewhere she was aware it was happening, but all she could thing about how she raped? Was that the correct word? Did she force-

“Quinn, sweetie,” Rachel said, putting her hand on her cheek.

Rachel into more than she wanted? Pressure is still pressure even if it is under the guise of pleasure and-

“Lucy,” Rachel whispered. Quinn looked up at her. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Quinn replied. “Sorry.” She looked away, unable to meet the eyes of the girl she... she... oh God what had she done.

“For what?”

“I...I... forced-” 

Rachel pushed Quinn's chin up and stared at her, keeping her eyes on Quinn's. Quinn looked everywhere else, refusing to meet her eyes. “You did not force me,” the diva said slowly. “Did I say no – well, ignore the end because you made me ride that out perfectly, and I am the submissive, despite us not talking about a safe word - no, you did not force me in any way, Lucy Quinn Fabray. As arrogant as you are, don't think for a second that your sexual prowess is so strong you can convince unwanting girls to fuck you in school, on the desks, during class.” Rachel poked her in the chest, hard. “Understand?” Quinn nodded. “Good. Now, I understand that while it's the dominant's duty to take care of the submissive, it is the submissive's duty to return the favor, no?”

“Rachel, you are not-” 

She interrupted her with a kiss. “I prefer that aspect, yes, but it is not a lifestyle for me, just as dominant is not a lifestyle for you. I'm joking, kay?”

“Okay,” Quinn said. This wasn't right, she was supposed to be comforting and helping Rachel. The role reversal was odd, distracting. She did not know where to go from here. “We should leave, third period and all.”

“Right!” Rachel smiled, kissed her cheek, and stood up. Quinn started to move, but Rachel's attire, or lack thereof, caused her pause. The white-button down shirt hung loosely on her shoulders, undone and exposing her perfect breasts. The skirt was crooked, with half of it sliding down to reveal a bit of left leg, the other half above her hip. Her thigh-highs rested at her knees and she had lost a shoe. “Yes, you did good. With only oral too. Think of how much fun it'll be – Your hair.”

“What about it?” Quinn asked. Rachel stepped even further into her space and started to fuss with it, trying to put it back into a pony tail. “Leave it.” She grabbed her wrists and brought them in front of them. 

“Why, won't the school see you... oh,” Rachel said. “You're testing my forgetting thing.”

“Brittany requested that we try something like this, just to see how much we are included in it.” Quinn picked up her books from the floor, happy that at least she remembered to place them there prior to their fun. 

“Oh,” Rachel replied. 

“What?” Three minute bell.

“I was just, are you using me that why? To explore magic and-”

“No, Rae, never that,” Quinn said. “We would never use you like that.”

“But in other ways?” she smiled.

Quinn returned it. “Well, of course. You would find those ways enjoyable as well.”

“Damn, back to proper language,” she said. “I need to fix that.” Rachel dragged a laughing Quinn by an elbow out of the room and towards her third period class. 

And ran into Coach Sylvester.

Her hair a mess, her uniform completely skewed, Quinn stood as still as possible, arms holding her books in front of her, legs locked, looking up to the tracksuit titan. This was not good, this was not good at all. 

“Younger Me,” she said.

“Yes, Coach?” Quinn replied. She pulled Rachel behind her, out of line of sight. She stilled her features, becoming the HBIC and the mask she needed. And hoped to God Brittany was right and Rachel's mere presence allowed her to get away with being out of uniform. “Can I assist you?”

“Some of the baby-cheerios are thinking again,” she replied. Rachel smiled into Quinn shoulder, before sliding around to wrap her arms around her waist, sighing into her back. “I will not stand for this insubordination.”

“Had I even contemplated that order when I was a freshmen, you would have never had a captain like me,” Quinn said. 

“Do you really want some freshmeat taking your spot?” Coach asked. Rachel giggled, kissed her neck, and let go with one hand. Quinn paused in breathing: Rachel gripped her zipper and pulled it down until her top was completely undone. 

“Coach,” Quinn said, hoping her voice was steady, “I am hurt that you could believe a single one of them would ever be a threat.” She tapped her chin, faking thinking. “I suppose you are correct, we cannot allow this behavior to continue. I can only assume this is in regards to today's practice, the one where I will break them for such thoughts?” Rachel slide other arm around her waist until both hands were attempting to tickle her back, lightly grazing her bare skin. 

“Yes it is,” Coach said. “It's a wonderful thing to see another Sue Sylvester roaming the halls of high school.”

Quinn had played this game before, leading on the coach and letting her think what she wanted. “You attended McKinley?” Rachel unhooked her bra, damn that girl, and pushed under her top to grab hold her breasts. God, she was going to kill her. The diva giggled and massaged her, squeezing her, gripping her – She gasped and covered it with a cough.

“Sick there, Barbie?”

“No, coach,” Quinn said, “Germs would not dare to touch me.” She glared at some freshmen who were staring at the cheerio coach talking civil. The stares would be fixed after lunch. She made note of them, and would hold court to ensure the power remained in her hands, even though Rachel currently held power over her. The diva kissed and lightly sucked on her neck, her shoulders, as she played with her breasts. 

“Turnabout is fair play,” Rachel whispered. She gave another squeeze and went back to sucking on her neck, rubbing her ass with her hips. What she lacked in experience, Rachel made up for it in enthusiasm – Quinn breathed out slowly, and closed her eyes, focusing for a moment to keep her mask up. 

“Good to know,” Coach said. The bell rang. “I suppose as a responsible adult in this school, I should let you attend class.”

“It's only world history.”

“Had it been military history I would force every last one of you to have daily attendance,” Coach replied. “Be gone, and fix this today.”

“Of course, practice will run smoothly.” One of Rachel's hand started to slip down towards her skirt, but Quinn squeezed her arms on her stomach, halting it. The coach finally turned around and walked away, and Quinn almost could have relaxed into Rachel's grip, but God was not kind today.

“Oh,” Coach stopped and looked back. “Where is Tweedle-Fake Boobs and Tweedle-Blonde?” Even Coach knew better than to mock Brittany. Rules were for everyone, especially ones that protected her own. The hallway was empty now, all the students and teachers knowing to avoid Coach Sylvester when she was advancing the power of her Cheerios and Quinn Fabray when she was proving that she was the only one in the school to stand up to Coach.

“Being the good little Cheerios they are and attending class,” Was the correct and only answer in public. In truth, Quinn could have guessed they were ditching and making out in some empty space, probably trying to tame Santana's rampaging lust at the moment. Bless Rachel – no fuck her, she bit down on her shoulder, squeezed one tit and twisted her other nipple. Fuck her, and give Quinn time to fuck her hard. Her control slipped for a moment, and a light bulb burst around them. 

“Good, good,” Coach replied, ignoring the broken bulb and shower of sparks, “See to it that they are.” Damn, she knew. At least, about San and Bri, oh fuck. Rachel bit her again, sucking even harder and humping against her ass, grinding her. Quinn stood strong, but her will was threatening to explode outward in a desire to fuck the diva. Coach left without another word, leaving a stiff Quinn, though not in the way she really, really wished it, and a flirty Rachel, determined to 'repay' her earlier actions. 

“You are a very, very naughty diva,” Quinn said, embracing Rachel's arms. She giggled against her neck. “I should punish you for that.”

“Promise?” Rachel said. 

“Come on,” Quinn pulled her arms apart and dragged Rachel behind her. “I have class, and I actually like this one, so we are learning this period.”

“Aww,” Rachel replied, stomping her foot. “I owe you.”

“Later, right now you are just going to sit in my lap and behave, or I will punish you, severely, understand.” Rachel smirked at her, promising so many things. Quinn could get used to the girl, though hopefully, she would eventually relax and settle down, because this pace of sexual deviancy was going to kill her.

******

Santana scanned the entrances for the duo who she couldn't stop thinking about. Ever since Berry had walked up the steps in a Catholic priest's wet dream had he been straight, her mind was focused on how wonderful she would taste, how soft and delicate she would feel, and how wild she'd look in an orgasm. Damn, that was her third pair of panties she was soaking. This was going to be a long day. 

“Relax, Sannie,” Brittany said, rubbing the back of her hand, “Quinn will be here. She has to be, what with the need to rule the court today.”

“I know I just-”

“Guess who?” Two small, nothing similar to man-hands wrapped around Santana's eyes. 

“Um, an incredible horny hobbit?” Santana said, smiling. 

“Right!” Rachel came around and sat herself down in both Brittany and Santana's laps. The blonde started to massage her feet, while Santana wrapped her arms around her shoulders. “I missed you two.”

“I knew you wanted me,” Santana replied.

“Of course, you're the best cuddler here,” Rachel said with a smirk. Her shirt was retied, though not as a good job. The pigtails were gone, replaced with a haphazard braid, and the skirt was twisted about. Brittany laughed at Santana pouting, which was so not fair they were ganging up on her in the wrong way. 

“She's right, Sannie,” Brittany added.

“Quiet you.” Santana leaned down to kiss Rachel, but someone grabbed her pony tail. That someone was going to die. She whipped her head around and was looking up to a perfectly dressed Quinn Fabray. “What do you want? I wants my mack on with this pure angelic hobbit.”

“I'm not that pure anymore.” Rachel giggled, and Santana moaned, squeezing the diva's waist a bit tighter. The girl was gonna be the death of her. 

“A reminder,” Quinn said, “One, dibs is still mine until tonight, then we'll share. For now, no penetration but anything else is fair game. Two: I'm gonna need your help with the peons today, apparently, some of the younguns have been thinking and we need to stop that. You have ten minutes, the time it'll take me to get Rachel's and my vegan salad.”

Quinn walked off, the crowd parting for her and avoiding her glare. “I hate it sometimes when she's like this.”

“I think it's hot,” Rachel said.

“Me too,” Brittany added. 

Santana didn't argue. “So, where were we?” She asked, and leaned down in for a kiss with Rachel. It was everything she'd imagine and more. 

Soft with just a hint of deference for Santana's will, allowing her to guide the diva however she wanted, pressing hard only to pull back slowly, moving away from her lips, kissing her cheek, her jaw, only to bite her ear, pulling it with her teeth. A hand slide down her neck to under her shirt, just grazing above her tits. Rachel moaned and arched her back; Santana looked up to see Britts massaging her feet. 

“What?” she said. “I've read that some girls have erogenous zones on their feet and I wanted to see-” Rachel moaned louder, and Santana watched as her nipples grew hard and poked through the shirt. “I guess she does.”

“Wanna see how much we can make her cum before Quinn comes back?” Santana said with a smirk. “I'll be like a duet on a piano.”

“Three or four?” Brittany replied. She pressed harder on a spot, smiling from Rachel's sounds. 

“No,” Rachel tried to say, but the rest of her words were drowned out with a kiss. 

“In ten minutes? Definitely four,” Santana said into Rachel's lips, wrapping a hand around her poorly made-braid. 

“You can’t give me that many in that much time,” Rachel said.

“You stay above the waist?” Brittany asked, running fingers up and down Rachel's now bare legs, the leggings pulled off. They ignored her. “Standard stakes?”

“I say we can and yes,” Santana smiled. 

“You two are evil,” Rachel said, trying to pout, but Santana played with the back of her neck, lightly running her fingers across it. 

“Sounds like a challenge.” She smirked against Rachel and kissed up her jaw to her ear. “I'd love to see it, wouldn't you, my little pony?” Rachel shuttered as the Latina gripped her nipple through her shirt. 

Ten minutes later, and a rather limp Rachel in the pairs laps, Quinn returned to the table with a large salad on her tray and two bottles of water. “There's something awesome about being forgotten by the people around us,” Santana said. She held Rachel's head up, the girl snoring lightly with a smile on her face.

“How many were you able to give her?” Quinn sat down across from them, smiling at the pair. No one else would join their small table, the way it should be. They had forced everyone to be wary of them, giving them space unless they granted an audience.

“Four, sadly. She went limp after the third, and it was a bit of race with you walking over here for the fourth,” Brittany said. “Though that last one might have just been a rather long three, really, but I think we’ll count it as a fourth.” Santana nodded, threading her hand through Rachel's braidless hair. 

“Was it as good as she was earlier?” Quinn asked. 

“If you mean responsive as all get out, and loud like she normally is? Hells yeah,” Santana said. “What did you get up to, Cap?”

“I will tell you later,” she replied. “For now, I do want to eat, and we can pack some up for her later. Let us hold off on teasing any more orgasms out of her until tonight. I think eight is more than enough for now.”

“Four earlier?” Santana smirked. “You're losing your touch.”

“It is about the teasing, my avenger,” Quinn smiled down into her salad, “Not the pleasing.” Cap stretched them out the entire period? There was something so wrong and so amazing about that. 

“So hot,” Brittany muttered, massaging Rachel's calves. 

******

School ended, and Rachel had slept through most of Quinn's afternoon classes. Quinn had snuck one last orgasm after lunch, sneaky bitch, and she struggled to walk for the rest of the day, sleeping on the bleachers during gym, and napping in her lap for the rest of the time. Quinn had ruled the school, even with a loser like her on her arm, smiling when appropriate and ordering slushies and other bully acts upon some who deserved it, others who didn't. Now, the Unholy Trinity and she stood outside the gym, waiting for their practice to start. 

“Don't you need to warm up or something,” she asked.

“Baby Cheerios are always late,” Satnana said. “They've been getting uppity lately and my caps is gonna tear the rugs right from them.”

“You mean from under them,” Rachel corrected.

“Sure,” Santana smirked, “We'll go with that.” That smirk was a new quirk she learned about today, after waking up during lunch with Brittany kissing her and a smirking Santana sauntering over to them. It meant something dirty was said and or done, and she was at a loss as to what this time. 

“They do have poor hygiene,” Brittany said. “Especially Jessie, she needs to learn how to shave properly if she's gonna be here.” 

“Right, the lip hair is disgusting,” Santana replied. 

“Head in, you two,” Quinn said, turning back from discussing something with one of the jocks, her voice low and Rachel didn't feel like ease-dropping today, now that the head-cheerio could see her. “Get them in, but don't tell them their running suicides. In fact, stretch out here and then pull their chirping asses inside for them.”

“Really?” Santana asked. “Fuck, that bad? I hate you so much, not like this morning where it was a fun-hate, but yous a bitch right now.”

“C'mon, Sannie,” Brittany pulled on her arm. “The sooner we do this, the sooner we can get home to prepared.”

“We’re not doing it the entire time, but it needs to be done,” Quinn said. “I'll be doing them with you, at least.”

“That's why you're the captain,” Brittany said, before dragging the pouting Latina away to warmup and stretch.

“What about me?” Rachel asked. 

“You my little star, are going home for the moment,” Quinn said. “I'm gonna stop by and pick you up when practice is over.”

“I can't stay?” She felt tears in her eyes, and her heart racing. What, were they ditching her already? “What did I do wrong? I was a good girl all day, I-”

Quinn hugged her tightly. “Oh, Rae. You didn't do anything wrong. I need you rested for tonight.”

“But...but...I want to watch you guys,” Rachel replied. “I like watching you.”

“You just like seeing San's breasts bounce,” Quinn corrected. “Don't worry, me too. No, you're tired as it is, and I need you to at least shower and relax before we really wear you out tonight.” 

“I can do that here, and-”

“Rachel,” Quinn said, in her HBIC voice, “I gave you an order and I expect you to follow it. You are standing her naked, exhausted on your feet, and sore all over. That was just from a few.”

“A few?” Rachel stomped her foot, glaring up at her. “That was a few? You knocked me out during your free period.”

“I know.” Quinn smirked. “Go home, I'll pick you up in two hours. Bring whatever you need for sleeping over, your footie pajamas and some skirts as well, maybe stuffed animals you find comfort in.”

“What?” How did Quinn know about Mr. Bugsy, or the pajamas she wore when it was cold? “Despite my openness, I don't appreciate being thrown into age play this early in our relationship.” Quinn laughed at her. “I don't find this funny.”

“We'll do that later, kay?” Quinn said. She leaned forward and whispered into Rachel's ear, “No, I just want to defile your childhood, that's all.” Rachel nodded, her mind lost to the idea of being taken behind with a strap-on in the little butt-flap on her winter pajamas. Bad Rachel, focus on your new friends abandoning you, after they had just spent the day giving you more pleasure than you knew possible, pulling sound and sight from her over and over again. 

“Quinn, I-“

“Rachel,” Quinn stepped into her space full, pressing her body against hers, “Nothing hurts me more than seeing you in pain; I can only compare it to how I feel when Santana or Brittany is hurt. So understand this, it is as hard for me to send you home, even for a little while, where you will be alone, as it will be on you, if only because I take whatever cross you bear as my own.”

“So messianic of you,” Rachel muttered, staring down at Quinn’s cheerio covered breasts. The HBIC just laughed. “I…I don’t want to wake up from this if it is a dream.”

“You won’t,” Quinn replied. “Never again will you be alone, because you have us three on your side. Always.” She kissed her on the nose and walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So due to both nanowrimo and Macroeconomics, these three updates I’m putting up[Dirty Paws, Invisible, and They didn’t have the words] took a bit longer than I wanted. Dirty Paws will have the shortest chapter to date mainly because I felt it ended best there, and what’s gonna happen in the next chapter doesn’t really fit with this one. But anyways. 
> 
> So I have smut now. At least, I attempt it. No idea if its any good or not, but I try. I enjoyed writing it at least. There is plot in here. I just ahd some fun with it. 
> 
> Sadly, I do not own glee, or else this season would have never happened.
> 
> Because I can,  
> SurrealSteamPuckk(WeOffendedShadows)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quinn sat in the drive way, tapping out a random rhythm on the steering wheel, waiting for Rachel to finish throwing a few bags into her car. Few being six, but it wasn’t like she was counting the obnoxiously pink luggage that Rachel had decided she required

Quinn sat in the drive way, tapping out a random rhythm on the steering wheel, waiting for Rachel to finish throwing a few bags into her car. Few being six, but it wasn’t like she was counting the obnoxiously pink luggage that Rachel had decided she required. She hoped it was just because the diva wanted to stay longer than a night, or two, or three, or-

“All set,” Rachel said, climbing into the car with a bag in her lap and a smile on her face. “Though I don’t understand why you couldn’t help me.” 

“You are a capable young woman who does not need anyone to take care of her,” Quinn said with a smile, turned her car on driving away without a look back at the Berry residence. She did not hate the men, it was not their fault they could not see their daughter, but she still felt the anger pool in her, daring to bubble over. There were more important things to worry about, like Rachel’s first sleepover with them. 

Maybe first sleepover ever.

“While your belief in my own abilities is refreshing, I would have liked help.”

“I like to see you glistening,” Quinn said, looking over at Rachel with just a hint of a smile. 

The diva blushed and turned her attention to the world passing by. “Where we going?” She asked, after a minute had passed. Rachel was almost bouncing in her seat. 

“Santana’s,” Quinn replied. “Her parents are out this weekend, so we felt it was necessary to-“

“Defile?”

“Spend time together, as a coven. This was planned since the beginning of the week, and marks a great time to add you.” 

“And the sex?”

“Well, we tend to do that whenever we get the chance.”

“Am I going to lose my virginity today or tonight, or this weekend? It’s gonna be in a bed, right? Because I am thankful it’s in a home and all, and you’ve three been wonderful with me, taking care of me, teasing me to breaking point with pleasure, blacking me out with orgasms-“

“You’re welcome for that by the way,” Quinn said.

“Horny?”

“A bit.” Quinn slowed down and pulled into a moderately large house near Lima Heights, pale blue with a brick front, the garage door a stark white. The yard was big enough so that the houses were not really stacked on top of each other. “Nothing that can’t wait until later.”

“That’s what you get for not letting me go down on you,” Rachel said, a smug smile on her face. 

“Says the girl who passed out after lunch,” Quinn opened the door and stepped out, this time taking a few bags to the door, to be greeted by a bubbly Brittany.

Practice had ended at five forty-five, and Quinn had yet to shower, throwing on sweats and a t-shirt before picking up Rachel at six. The diva had been excited to see her and to be attending a sleepover with her new friends, a word that Quinn swore Rachel said with an exclamation mark every time. Maybe a squeal too.

“Yay, you’ve made it,” Brittany said, hugging Rachel tight enough to make her drop her bags. “Quinn, you go shower and change, Sannie’s put out cloths for you and said, and I’m quoting her here, ‘Bitch better understand who’s in charge tonight.’”

Quinn laughed and walked inside, dropping the two bags in the doorway before heading upstairs to remove the overly sweaty cloths and refresh for the night. A long, fun-filled night, with many things to accomplish. 

She found Santana’s room and grabbed the flannel shirt before heading to the bathroom where a shower was already going for her, the steam filling the hallway, and already soothing her aches. San knew her need for burning showers after days like theirs, to wash away the ice and cold she filled herself with to protect them and herself. She stripped and stepped in, wincing at the scalding water, but sighing as it warmed her. Quinn tried to relax her body after the horrible practice they had finished.

Practice had been grueling, with Quinn leading the squad in suicide after suicide. The Unholy Trinity had at least warmed up and stretch; by the time they were done with the torture, they were the only ones to remain standing, the freshmen collapsing to the floor quickly, and the varsity squad at least waited until Quinn gave the okay. 

She dismissed the varsity team and glared down at the freshmen squad, waiting for one of them to speak, to even think of talking back. The first did was smacked down, verbally, thankfully, by Santana before she finished the first word. Brittany was the one who spoke of the order of things, her voice losing its ditzy quality, while Santana added in threats and comments of the poor quality of existence. Quinn said nothing, but kept the HBIC glare and ice in full.

By the time it was over, she had hoped the girls learned just what it meant to be Cheerios, and how they have failed the squad thus far. Coach made it clear that she did not want any of them removed from the squad, hence how easy Quinn went on them today, majority of the girls would have been kicked off the squad and pushed to the bottom of the social ladder: worse than a has-been, but a never-was. 

“Q?” Santana stepped inside, locking the door behind her. Guess she did not close it all the way. “This okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” Quinn said, still attempting to calm herself away from the actions she was forced to perform. She didn’t look through the clear shower walls at her avenger. 

“I mean, it was meant as a joke, really, honestly. I can hold off and-“

“San,” Quinn replied. “No, I… I think I need it tonight, just let me take care of Rachel first, okay?”

“Yeah, no prob,” Santana said. “We’re making pizza, so finish up and come down, kay. Britts can give you a massage while the pony and I work. Sound good?” Quinn nodded, her shoulders easing slightly, as did her legs and arms. She had taken an hour long shower after the first time she slushied Rachel, never really understanding it, the subsequent hot showers that followed each time she gave the order or committed the act herself. At least she was aware of why. “You gonna be fine?”

“Yes, San,” Quinn said, chuckling, before standing up straight, “After tonight I think I will be.”

“Even with another lamb to watch over?” 

“That is your job, but yeah, I think so. You three…” Quinn turned around and let the heat trail down her back. She gripped the support rail, struggling to hold herself up as her legs lost a bit of their strength.

“Got it,” Santana said. “Five more minutes, then come down, or I’ll send Hobbs up here to bother you until you do.” Quinn laughed and nodded. “Good girl. Reward later.” 

“San?” Quinn asked as the door opened. 

“Hmm?”

“Thanks.”

“Always,” Santana replied and closed the door fully. 

******

Brittany sat at the counter, her eyes glued to the stairs, waiting for Santana or Quinn to come down, and Rachel waited right next to her, her legs barely coming to the second rung on the tall stool. “Everything okay?”

“Hmm?” The blonde replied. Rachel touched her arm, fingers dancing down it until they took her hand, and offered a soft smile. “Sorry.”

“Worried?”

“Yeah, a bit,” Brittany replied. Rachel nodded, though she really didn’t understand. “Sannie and I, well, our masks are just masks, they aren’t really us. We just act as people expect and carry on, not letting the weight get to us.”

“Quinn’s not like that?” Rachel asked. Brittany shook her head. 

Santana collapsed in the seat next to Rachel. “Nope, Q’s all or nothing.”

“She is her mask, there is no separation for her,” Brittany added. “When you see the HBIC of McKinley, the Ice Queen that rules our school, the Head Cheerio, perfect Christian girl, straight-A student, that is Quinn, completely and fully. We act our parts.”

“But for Q, it’s not a part, it’s not an act.”

“Then…how does she…” Rachel looked down at the counter, fiddling with her top. Santana reached over and stilled her hands. 

“How does she cope?” Rachel nodded. “Us. You too now. It’s a process and when she has to wear it so harsh and strong, like today, it’s a bit difficult for her to deal. We offer what we can, either give or take control, whatever she wants.”

“And by take she means herself,” Brittany said with a smile. Santana blushed.

“Right,” Rachel replied, “you’re the only one who can top her, huh?”

“We have…” Santana waved her hand, “an agreement of sorts.”

“Enough of this talk,” Brittany clapped her hands and stood up. “I want pizza, so let’s get the stuff out and Quinnie can finish when she gets down.”

Santana and Brittany were a flurry of movement, going from cabinet to draw to cabinet, pulling out so many different toppings and ingredients. Rachel sat on her stool, unnerved. “Something wrong, pony?” Santana came up next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. 

“It’s just…” She shrugged. 

“Left out?” She asked. Rachel shook her head. “Then, what is it?”

“I’m a vegan,” she said, her voice above a whisper. She didn’t want to be a hassle or an inconvenience to them, especially after all they’ve done to help her. Quinn took care of her lunch every day, eating the same food as her, but also eating some terrible meat products. 

“I know,” Quinn said. Rachel looked over and smiled as the girl, relaxed and lighter from the shower, waltzed down the stairs, her movement in time to some music that she had been blessed with, a tune Rachel could only hope she would hear one day. She wore a large flannel button down shirt; her bare feet never made a sound when they touched the tile. Rachel licked her lips. “It’s why we’re making two. One for us meat eaters, and one for those who slaughter the poor defenseless vegetables.”

“Why are you vegan?” Brittany asked.

“Because I don’t believe that we should be eating the poor defenseless animals,” Rachel said, glaring at Quinn who ignored her and her comment; she leaned into Santana’s embrace, watching as the captain smiled at them and began to work. Quinn gathered some of the vegetables laid out for her and placed them into a large pot. “It’s wrong to treat them as mere objects for our own betterment. Pigs are known to express emotion, and calves can get separation anxiety in regards to their mothers.”

“What about milk and eggs and honey, stuff like that?” Brittany asked. She sat across the counter, letting Quinn work behind her. 

“Further exploitation of the animals,” Rachel said. “Besides the given health benefits of a vegan diet, the moral implications are the most imperative. I refuse to be responsible for the murder and torture of these beings.”

Brittany nodded. “But not vegetarianism, right? No eggs, or honey, or cheese or milk?” Rachel shook her head, leaning further into Santana. Quinn threw the chopped vegetables into the pop, emptying a few cans of tomatoes into it. “For the same reasons.”

“Of course.”

“So no seafood of any kind right?” Rachel blushed, turning into Santana’s shoulder. “Ooo, there is something, isn’t there.”

“I don’t like bugs,” she muttered. 

“What’s that sweetie?” Quinn asked. She turned around, smirking now. She felt all their eyes on her, judging her. “Rae, there’s nothing wrong with any choice you make.”

“I don’t like bugs.”

“So what? Shrimp, crab, lobster?” Santana asked. Rachel nodded. The Latina laughed and pulled her tightly against her. “Sweet, so sushi is still on the list, right? Right.”

“What did I just-“

“Quinnie makes some great sushi rolls,” Brittany said. Quinn nodded, her attention back on the sauce she must have been making. 

“Do all of you cook or something?”

“Brittany does breakfast, Quinn likes making dinner, and I burnt water,” Santana said with pride. “Don’t ask.” Rachel pulled away slightly, laughing. 

“So it’s cool if I bake?” 

“Estrella, you can do whatever you want with us,” Santana said. “You are your own person, with your own awesome talents and skills. Don’t ever think that we want you to be anything less than who you are.”

Rachel nodded. She liked baking, just hadn’t felt like doing so in a long time. There was no reason to bake when it was just for her. 

“Okay,” Quinn turned back around, “We have some premade dough, so it should be ready for us to use. Let’s get going. San, oven please at five fifty, and make sure the two stones are in there.”

“Ay ay, captain,” Santana said, saluting, quickly completely the tasks.

Rachel had a great deal of expectations of sleepovers: Take-out, pillow-fights, truth or dare, gossip, doing each other’s make up. Things of that nature. But with the Unholy Trinity, it was more what books they were reading (mostly Brittany), what video games they were playing (Santana), or just being there and smiling (Quinn). Magic was brought up, but it was never the focus. And school was a topic of taboo, Rachel learned. That was the place of plebs and monkeys, according to Brittany, and not worth dealing with. No, they preferred to just be with each other and their interests, even dragging her into the conversation, asking her about musicals. Despite the rolling of eyes and teasing by Santana, Rachel talked at long ends about music and theatre and the combination and why it was so glorious.

Once in the oven, Santana dragged Rachel over to the abnormally large television and made her play Halo with her. She wasn’t a fan of the first-person shooters, but she figured that it was mostly so Brittany could help Quinn relax and ease her muscles. It was nice to sit in between Santana’s legs, her arms wrapped around her, controller in her lap. The four of them rested and laughed and talked in the living room until the time dinged and Brittany darted out to take care of the pizzas. 

The pizza was wonderful, though Brittany continued to pester her about her diet, more so worried than annoying, at least that was how she choose to take it. It was nice having people worry about her again. 

Now, they were relaxing in the dark living room, watching some horrible horror movie that Santana put on then pulled Quinn into her lap in the large lazy-boy, cuddling with her. Brittany at least decided to hold her on the couch and let her hide in her hands every time someone died on screen, or hurt, or there was blood, or the chance of blood, or the music changed. Well, Rachel pretty much had forced Brittany to hold her hands over her ears as she burrowed her nose into her neck so she didn’t have to see or hear anything. Plus, it put her close to her.

It was nice to spend time with the genius of the group, not that the other girls were stupid or anything, but Brittany was speaking softly, attempting to explain away the story, but all Rachel really could hear, was the giggle of Santana (it was an extremely disturbing sound). 

The movie paused. Rachel looked up from Brittany’s neck. “Why’d we stop it?”

“You’re not enjoying it,” Quinn replied.

“But you three are,” Rachel said. Contractions? Why was she using contractions? There were two reasons and-

“That’s not the point, Hobbs,” Santana said. “But since we’ve stopped.” Santana slapped Quinn’s bare leg, and she stood up. “I need to get something, change the film into something you’d actually enjoy.” She disappeared into the darkness. Quinn sat back in the chair and sighed, letting her head fall back.

“She’s gonna kill me,” Quinn said. 

“Contractions?” Rachel asked. Brittany shook her head and pulled her closer. “Fine, later then.” She wiggled free just enough to grab the blanket off the floor, covered them and snuggled back into her. “Much better.”

“What do you want to watch?” Brittany said, exiting the movie and pulling up the selection screen, flipping through it. 

“Something I don’t need to pay attention to,” Rachel replied, kissing her neck softly before relaxing. Brittany traced circles under her t-shirt, using her nails to just scrap gently across her; she felt her body start to shiver at the touch, pushing towards the fingers she wanted to do more than just glide on her taught belly, maybe a bit further down, and in and out and in and out. That would be wonderful

“Remember dibs, Bri,” Quinn said. Rachel could almost hear the smirk. While she understood the importance of dibs, Rachel was tired of waiting. She had arrived tonight, hoping that she would continue to experience. Fucking cock block. 

“Even with Sannie…” Brittany asked. She dipped her hand just into Rachel’s waist band of her gym shirts, smiling over at her. 

“We agreed that I can finish dibs, then San is going to-“

“Hush,” Santana sat back down in the chair, pulling Quinn back into her lap. “We’ll deal with it in a moment. Right now, back to the movie.” She put a bag next to their chair and smiled at the other couple. 

“Fine,” Brittany said. “I’ll behave.” She pulled her hand back, and Rachel whimpered. 

“No fair,” Rachel said, only to have Santana laugh. “What? You guys tease me and-“

“Give you eight ear-shattering orgasms during school,” Santana added. 

“And now you are refusing to finish the job.” Rachel ignored the comment and pulled her arms away from Brittany and crossed them over her chest. She stopped herself from kicking her foot or from storming out. A diva fit would not be acceptable at the moment. “You suck.”

“You’re gonna certainly say both of those later,” Santana replied. “Now, let’s watch movie and at least let the neighbors think we’ve passed out before we start anything.” Brittany twisted Rachel around so she was lying across her lap, holding her that she could watch both Santana and Quinn if she didn’t care about the movie. Which she really didn’t.

Ten minutes into the movie, Santana started to whisper into Quinn’s ear, her hand sliding up and down her leg, pushing further and further up her until her hand was beneath the overly large flannel button-down. Quinn petted her hair, threading her fingers through it and kissing her head every other minute or so. Rachel smirked at the gasp that followed about the same time. She swallowed, keeping her eyes focused on the hand in the dark. Santana pulled something out of the bag she brought, then handed it to Quinn. Whatever it, and it looked a few inches wide and circular, was paused Quinn’s hand, and she reached up with a shaking hand. “Go,” Santana said, her voice no longer a whisper. 

“But,” Quinn started. Santana kissed her hard, her hand and some of her forearms disappearing up the shirt. 

“Sweetie, go,” Santana repeated. “That’s an order.” 

“So, we’re starting,” Brittany whispered in her ear. Rachel would have jumped off of her except for the arms tightening around her, and the hand moving down her stomach to her waist band. 

“Starting what?” Rachel asked. “We’re gonna have sex?” She covered Brittany’s hand and tried to push it down, but the girl didn’t move. Just rubbed her back and forth a few inches above her clit. 

“Something like that,” Brittany said and kissed her neck. “Quinn told us about your limits, how you don’t want magic used on you.” 

Rachel breathed out slowly, trying to ignore the touch and focus on the words. 

“What about us?” 

“What?”

“What about us using magic on us?” 

“It’s not to control or-“ Brittany shook her head. “Then I don’t see the problem.”

“And if the magic we use it to do things to you, is that okay?” 

“I don’t understand,” Rachel replied. Quinn came back, her steps uneven and she struggled to hold her balance. She only sat back into Santana’s lap because the Latina pulled her down. 

“We’ve a spell that we’ve been using since we’ve started. It enhances the experience for us, allows us to do more to each other, please each other more.” Finally, Brittany slid the hand down into her shorts completely, only to rub around her clit, everything but. So not fair. Rachel wanted to hump her hand, to move it, but the blonde had her pinned on her, holding her completely still. 

“I still don’t-“ Rachel watched as Santana’s hand moved up Quinn’s leg again, disappearing under the shirt and remaining there. Only to push the shirt up and down. Up and down. What was she doing? Rachel couldn’t move her eyes away, focusing on the motion.

“It’s simple, Estrella,” Santana said. Quinn moaned and arched her back. The angle on her shirt changed and Rachel saw the rather large tent in it. A tent. That was more associated with- What had happened? That was something she had seen when a boy at school had got excited, really excited. Like horny excited. Puck was the main one and she watched one day as he fucked a cheerio. Before that occurred, he had a large tent in his gym shorts; the cheerio rubbing it and him enjoying it. 

“That’s…that’s…”

“A cock?” Brittany said. She reached behind them and turned on the light on the side table.

Quinn had her eyes closed, hands gripping on the back and armrest of the chair, her shirt pulled up so it sat on her waist. And a large penis stood up in the air, shaking back and forth as Santana stroked it. A black ring was at its base, though no balls, just above her perfectly shaved pussy, though Rachel kept her eyes on the shaft, the tip, the precum…Barbara. “It’s so…”

“Big?” Santana finished. “Course, Q here has always had to be the biggest, bestest really. Makes sense that she has the longest cock out of us.”

“And…and…and this is magic?” Rachel asked. She tried to move out of Brittany’s grip, but was held tight. At least the hand down her shorts found her clit, though it was just as slow at touch it as it was everything else. “Fuck, please…”

“Yep,” Santana said. 

“It doesn’t affect your mind or anything,” Brittany said. “Or… if it did, it just makes you horny.” She kissed her neck, fingers moving down her and pushing slowly inside her soaking wet pussy. Another hand moved up her shirt and found a hard nipple; Brittany took it In between her fingers and squeezed and pull it. Fucking torturers, learning how to make her respond. Make her sing.

“Hence why we love it,” Santana added. “Right, Q?” Quinn nodded, moving further into Santana’s grasp until her body mimicked Rachel’s, hands gripping the armrests, nails digging in. Apparently, the two Cheerios wanted to tease them together. “Isn’t she beautiful, Hobbs? Look at her cock, dancing in the air. Can you imagine how it would feel, taking the famous Berry-Cherry, forced in you so deep and-“ Quinn moaned. So did Rachel moaned; Brittany had curled her fingers and pulled upward, finding a nice spot in her pussy. Her dripping pussy. Fuck, she just… damn her. 

“Stretching you as she pushes in, leaving you so empty as she pulls back, only to slam against you, hips to hips, driving in just a little bit deep every time,” Santana finished. She slowed her hand down, just barely moving at all up the cock. Quinn tried to force the hand to move, arching her back, but her hands stayed where they were. Santana held her waist, keeping her as close as possible. “Would you like to see it up close? To touch it? Quinn would love it if you did.”

Rachel nodded. She had seen penises before, her few perv sessions in the locker room. But only Puck’s erect, and it wasn’t as long as this one. Course, it wasn’t magical either, but still, it was one penis. The other boys really didn’t compare, and that disappointed her. But here was one just a few inches from her… Made by magic. “I…I…”

The concept scared her a little bit, really. A magical cock that may or may not affect her judgment. Rachel was tired of magic affecting her, but this seemed so…so… awesome, that she was struggling with not wanting to move. Brittany let go of her, and Rachel groaned at the loss of her hands. “Go, sweetie,” she said. “Go take a look.”

“We all can do it,” Santana said. “But Q figured-“

“Nooo,” Quinn moaned, but didn’t really move. “Wasn’t, wasn’t, wasn’t me. Fuck, San.”

“Remember your place, slut,” Santana said, laughing. “I figured it’d be best if my slut here was the one who took every single one of the Berry-Cherries you have.”

“I have more than one?” Rachel asked. Brittany sat up, sliding Rachel down her body until her knees sank on the floor. She pushed her a bit, until she sat right behind her. 

Brittany leaned forward and whispered into her ear. “Of course, sweetie. Your mouth, your pussy and your ass.” Rachel’s hand grabbed her ass and tried to cover it. All in one night? They wanted to… oh Yahweh, please. She had spent too many nights watching porn not to have at least thought about it. Maybe a few times every other day or so. Really, it wasn’t a common thought for her to daydream about taking something thick and long up her ass along with her pussy. 

“And my slut here is gonna take them all,” Santana said. “Aren’t you, Q?” Quinn nodded. “Words, slut, use those words that Berry here enjoys so much?”

“Yes, mistress,” Quinn replied. Oh, Barbara. When she had said that she only let Santana dominate her, control her, Rachel didn’t realize just how much, how committed she was to the role to accept a moniker that she would have killed anyone else for using at school, though given what she learned about Quinn, she understood just how this wasn’t a mask or role. This was Quinn. Just like HBIC her, ice-queen her, student her. This was submissive-her. There was no other aspect about Quinn visible. “I really… oh God…. Would like to… fuck…help with that.” 

“Go,” Brittany said, and she pushed on Rachel’s shoulders. “Just crawl over there and get a closer look. That’s all. If it makes you feel uncomfortable, you don’t have to do anything.”

“Yep,” Santana added. “But slut here would love it if you did.”

“Go,” Brittany repeated. She pushed Rachel again, and she found herself moving, her hands and knees dragging her body along the carpet. It was just a few feet away, and Rachel found it was so extremely far away. She couldn’t pull her eyes away; Santana had stopped stroke it, switching to holding the cock at its base, just above the black ring on it. 

Rachel knelt in front of the lazyboy, her knees touching Santana’s bare feet, Quinn’s swinging lightly on top of her legs. “Good girl,” Santana said. “Want to feel it?” She nodded and her hand reached out towards it, pausing just before her fingers wrapped around it. “Go on, slut would love you to touch her. Don’t you?”

“Yes,” Quinn said. Her hips were shaking, but they didn’t move. Santana whispered something in her ear, smirking the entire time. “Please, Rae, just-“ Rachel wrapped her fingers around it, her small hand looking even smaller around it. Santana pulled away, leaving her to feel Quinn’s pulse, the quivers of her hips and body as Rachel just held her. 

“Nine inches in its all its glory,” Santana said, her voice just barely over the moan from Quinn. “Appropriate thickness too.”

“Course, Sannie’s is much thicker,” Brittany added. She moved behind her, kissing Rachel’s neck and pushing down the straps of her tank down. “Me? I’m average length, but-“

“The god damn energizer bunny, she is,” Santana said. She slide her hands up to Quinn’s breasts and squeezed them. Quinn shuddered again, her hips shifting back and forth, but stilled quickly. “You’ll see, sweetie. But, for now, good slut, don’t move.” She turned her attention back to Rachel. “Feels wonderful, doesn’t it?”

The cock was so warm, a mini hand warmer really. The room grew colder as the night dragged on. Stupid air conditioning in September; this just wasn’t right. God, it was so hard, standing straight up, but every time she squeezed it, the cock gave just a little, Rachel felt her flex behind her. She couldn’t help but nod to the question. “Move up and down, my slut loves it.” 

“Please,” Quinn said. She tried to move her hips, but a simple graze of Santana’s hand on her stomach stilled them again. “Rae, just…I...I want…”

“See that?” Santana said. She sat up and slid Quinn until she was in her lap, her feet touching the floor and her cock right in front of Rachel’s face, though she was sitting fully up on her knees. “She is oozing with excitement. Just stroke her, see how she weeps in joy at your touch.”

Rachel nodded again and dragged her hand up, then down. Up and down. Up, then slowly, very slowly down. The precum was a bit sticky, but she could slide her hand easier with it, and she smelled so wonderful. Rachel leaned up a little bit and sniffed, taking in all that was her. Quinn moaned loudly. She smirked and sat back. “Feel the head, Estrella. Slide your palm over it when you go up next time.”

She continued to motion, changing speeds and strengths of her grip, pausing and starting. Santana called her a natural. Rachel just thought she watched way too much porn. Quinn hadn’t really moved much, but from the sounds she was making, she bet she was close. Extremely close. She was looking forward to seeing a cock cum this close, in person, but as she continued to stroke it, the orgasm never came. Brittany had at some point pulled her tank down to her waist and hugged her from behind, her hands helping Rachel keep balanced she tried to get closer and closer to examine Quinn’s cock, trying to see why it never came. 

“You keep licking your lips, sweetie,” Santana said. She stilled her hand again and looked up to see her suck on Quinn’s pulse point, almost violently squeezing her breasts now. Quinn still kept still, though she was shaking quite a bit. “Want a taste?” 

“Go on,” Brittany whispered in her ear. “I’ll tell you what she likes, where she’s really sensitive, what can really get her going. Besides, don’t you owe her for this afternoon, when she drug out that last orgasm so painfully from your body, the pleasure knocking you out? Here’s a chance to return the favor.”

Rachel leaned forward, pushing herself up a little on Quinn’s knees so she could reach the cock. Even then, she angled it down a bit, so much so that she felt the tension travel up it to Quinn’s body as she tried to push it down further than ninety degrees. Close enough she supposed. She continued to stroke it, smiling at the thought of sucking the HBIC of McKinley off, especially after the few tranny jokes Rachel heard from the cheerios concerning her terrible sense of fashion and non-traditional beauty (though she always felt she was rather adorable and beautiful in the same way). Stay on topic, Rachel, the throbbing cock, and it was throbbing now if such a word was appropriate, begging to be touched, sucked and made to cum. 

She stroked her as she placed kisses on the head, the shaft and around the base. Quinn tried to thrust her hips, but Santana held her down again. “Please, I-“

“Patience, slut,” Santana said. “Patience. Take your time, Estrella. Enjoy it.” She started to kiss and lick Quinn’s neck, nipping every once in a while. Brittany had decided it was time for her to do the same, though her bites were a bit more primal and harsher, Rachel couldn’t help pushing back into her arms, against the blonde’s now naked chest. 

Rachel kissed her way back to the tip, gathering her nerve to actually take it into her. She smelled so much like…like…Quinn, like she did this morning. She enjoyed that scent, how it was for her and her alone, how aroused Quinn was but never let her do anything about it. There was something inherently cold in it, a good cold; the kind that wrapped a person on Christmas day, giving warmth and joy at the same time as reaffirming life. It was the only words she had for Quinn, once her major torturer in life, now being sexually tormented by her. Yay!

She smiled and pushed her hair out of her eyes before looking up at Quinn. “You smell,” she said, breathing in deep, her hair brushing around Quinn’s thighs, “so good.” Rachel leaned forward, just to the side of her cock and kissed the crevice where thigh met crotch, nipping up the leg as she moved back, squeezing her cock every other time she bite skin. 

“You’re…evil,” Quinn said. “Please, Mistress, let-“

“Nope,” Santana said, laughing, “Not even close to that time. Just enjoy that edge, my slut, enjoy it and everything that comes with it. You certainly won’t be later.”

Brittany sucked right beneath Rachel’s ear, a hand sliding between her legs. “See that ring?” she asked, she nodded, trying to keep her eyes open as Brittany brushed her palm against her clit. She opened them back up, slowly, looking past the head, past her hand to the base where a thin black ring rested. “That black circle squeezing Quinn’s cock?”

“A cock ring?” Rachel said.

“Right in one,” Santana replied. “Ever the good student.”

“So don’t worry about holding back,” Brittany said, and kissed her pulse again. She squeezed a nipple, pulling it away slightly and pushed two fingers into her almost dripping pussy. “Just enjoy what you’re doing.”

Rachel looked at Quinn, who, despite the pained expression and now quivering hips, was smiling at her. She smiled, opened her mouth, and pushed down as far as she could go, pulling her hand away and just letting her mouth and tongue do her work. Maybe her throat too. 

Santana groaned as she watched the diva go further and further down the long cock until she reached the base. Rachel pulled back slowly, ever other breathe from her she pushed down, returning to the base, before pulling back even further. As she reached the tip, her hands grabbed the cock and stroked it, then kissed it again once it was completely out of her mouth. “So hot,” Santana said. “So very, very fucking hot.”

“I have no gag reflex,” Rachel said, smiling up at Quinn, staring into her eyes. She couldn’t look away as she stroked her, her hand sliding effortless. “Learned it when I tried to make myself puke in eighth grade.” She shrugged, smile widening. “Didn’t realize it would be so useful, given my predilection towards females.” Quinn moaned, and Rachel squeezed. 

“I think she would love to fuck your throat, Rachel,” Brittany said, curling her fingers and pulling her up; Rachel bite her lip, holding in a whimper, her eyelids fluttering briefly. “Force it down you, attempting to gag you, but failing, you smirking through it, maybe even fucking her with your fingers. Would you like that?” 

“Do it, Estrella,” Santana said. “Let’s see how wild my slut can get, trying to use your pussy-mouth.” Rachel nodded and leaned forward again, sucking on the tip for a moment as though it were a sucker, Quinn flavored. Her favorite now. Would have to try Santana and Brittany ones later. 

Sliding forward on Quinn, Rachel let her teeth drag just gentle against. She bucked at the touch, trying to force herself even deeper into the diva, until her lower lip almost touching her pussy. “Do you like that, slut?” Santana pushed them both so they were standing. Brittany helped Rachel follow, pulling her up so she was bent at the waist and supported by her hips. She grabbed hold of Quinn’s ass and tried to hold on as she felt the cock pulled out of her mouth, just enough so she could take another deep breath, and then shoved straight back in. Rachel moaned around it, turning quickly into a hum. The pace was slow enough, one she controlled; the power all in her hands, and it was wonderful.

Quinn wanted to stop, needed to stop, but she also needed to cum, to finally fall over her edge. But Santana’s fucking ring prevented that, and the bitch was not pulling her hips in and out of Rachel’s wonderfully warm and soft throat. “How’s it feel, slut,” Santana asked, her fingers now holding her up solely by her nipples, “how’s it feel to have that single greatest urge taken from you, held just from reach.”

“Please, mistress,” Quinn said. “I need… please let…”

Her nipples were pulled away, and she tried to follow, pulling out of Rachel, but the diva just followed, a hand locked on her ass, squeezing it tightly. The other hand disappeared and then- “Oh fuck.” A finger slide along her folds, lightly at first, before it grew bolder and pressed against her, pressing into her. As she fucked Rachel’s throat, the finger fucked her in the same pace and pattern. 

“Excellent,” Brittany said. “Go on, as long as you like, Rachie, just enjoy. I’ve only been able to take half before I gag, and Santana avoids giving blowing her simply out of fear.” Rachel moaned, shifting her own hips against Brittany’s fingers, who now mimicked her pace on Quinn. She could hear the soft laugher, feel it as it traveled down her chest into her hips pressed against her ass. She loved it. Nails were dragged down her back, almost scratching her, tearing skin, but she never felt that bit of pain of her skin tearing open. 

“Damn straight, Britts,” she laughed. “My slut here has a mighty fine cock, but it’s a bit too long for me.” She twisted her fingers, pulling forward dragged Quinn with her. The head-cheerio reached for Rachel’s head, twisting her fingers in the black hair and pulling tightly toward her hips, slamming herself into her, only to gasp as she felt the teeth again, this time just above her cock ring, a bit harder then she could ever want. Quinn loosened her grip slightly as Santana did on her, and Rachel slid off, only for the Latina to repeat the process, and Quinn followed suit. Rachel moaned against her, but still bite down on her. 

Her breathing was rapid and varied, and Quinn couldn’t keep it up. As the finger was almost pulled out of her, a second one entered with it; Quinn gasped, holding her breathe. She couldn’t exhale; her hips moved on their own accord and her body followed the motions forced on her, but she couldn’t breathe. That didn’t stop Santana from nearly tearing her nipples off, Rachel from using her teeth often, humming and moaning, vibrating her throat – God, was she throat-singing – and fucking her faster and faster. She couldn’t breathe. 

Quinn closed her eyes, trying to force the ring off, to make Rachel grab it and drag it away, but the diva was always short, stopping her mouth just before she reached it, only to let Quinn drag her off of her, feeling the friction of her lips. 

Fingers moved rapidly in her, and Rachel struggled to remain on her feet, even with Brittany holding her up. She didn’t know who was in control, at least of herself. Santana made Quinn’s body dance like a puppet master, or a conductor creating music from her orchestra, forcing her to moan and cry and beg and scream in so many ways, using Rachel as the tool to do so. She loved it. Between the three fingers now in her, pushing in, spreading, curling, pulling her, and Quinn’s long cock down her throat, Rachel figured it couldn’t get any better. 

The pressure was building in her, slowly now, with Brittany deciding to be antagonizing her with a pace that was not acceptable. Rachel pushed her hips hard against the blonde, only to feel that laughter again. “Such a good girl,” Santana said. The fingers pulled out and all Rachel felt was cold air for a moment, before pushed back in, deeper this time. Nails dragged against her again, scratching her so lightly she just shivered on Quinn. So close. Would they torture her like-

Rachel struggled to hold herself up as her body betrayed her and came, her legs starting to shake and her mouth opening even wider. That didn’t stop Quinn from fucking her mouth, or Brittany fingering her. Both continued to ride her, or let her ride them, holding her up completely as she shook, her arms losing their strength. Quinn supported her shoulders, hands holding them tightly up, using her like some sex toy, while Brittany just held onto her hips, letting her dangle on Quinn, Rachel unable to let go of them. 

Her body finally relaxed, and she pulled her mouth away from Quinn, who tried to keep her cock as deep as she could in her. Brittany helped by taking a step back, and Santana must have held Quinn still, though the groan of disappointment was loud. With a final suck on the sensitive tip, Rachel nearly collapsed onto the floor, but Brittany pulled her up, mimicking Santana’s hold on her, though her feet didn’t touch the ground. She was okay with that, really, it was nice being held this way. 

“Like I said, Estrella,” Santana smiled at her from behind Quinn, “so hot. Enjoy losing that cherry, Berry?” She nodded, though she could barely hold her eyes open. “Then come slut, let’s go to my room and we can get started on the rest of them.” Santana reached around and took hold of Quinn, flexing her hand and pulling upward, hard, so Quinn stood on her toes. They walked out of the room. 

Now that the pair had left, Rachel felt a bit exposed: her breasts hung in the cold air, her nipples still hard, and her tank was pooled around her waist, the shorts hanging on one foot. A hand support by her pussy and the other was around her stomach, just before her breasts. “You did real well,” Brittany said, squeezing her belly. “I’m proud of you.”

“Really?” Rachel asked. “I just was-“

“No ‘just’s, no ‘but’s, no arguing,” she said, and kissed her neck, softly, then nuzzled against it. “You were wonderful and exactly what she needed, what we wanted. Did you enjoy it? Did you have fun? Was it what you wanted?”

Rachel paused and leaned back best she could into the grip. The power of having Quinn down her throat, the joy of Brittany’s fingers in her and nails on her back. Santana’s constant affirmations of how she was a good girl, and how slutty and dirty Quinn was. “Yes,” she replied. To all three. It was almost as good as Broadway (maybe better, but she couldn’t admit that now). “Very much so.”

“Then you did really well,” Brittany repeated. “Ready for more?”

“Yeah, yes. I am.”

“Good, it gets better.”

“How?” Rachel asked, without thinking. “That was…I had never…”

“You’ll see,” Brittany smiled and kissed her pulse again, “C’mon, Santana’s waiting, and if we don’t hurry, she’ll start teasing Quinn never more than she already is.” Rachel smiled at the thought. 

“How long is she going to be like that?” Brittany shrugged. “Is it… is it safe?”

“Of course. We’ve done it before, so don’t worry whether she’s okay or not. Santana knows her safe word, and they learned that it was never good for Quinn to push herself past that point.” 

“Okay, then let’s go,” Rachel said. She tried to remove herself from the embrace, but Brittany held tightly. With a motion that seemed so graceful in the dancer’s body, she was moved into position like one would hold a bride when crossing their threshold. “I can walk.”

“I like holding you,” Brittany said. “You’re like the ultimate dolly.”

“I resent that remark,” Rachel said, crossing her arms. “Just because I am just slightly below average height does not-“

“Calm down, Rachie.” She smiled at her as she started to walk towards the stairs. “I just mean it’s nice to hold you and how warm you are. How playing with you is so much better than actual dolls since you respond to stimuli and play back. I didn’t mean that you were just a toy to us, to me, or that we would use you as such and discard you.” She had thought of it that way, but never would admit it. “Sannie’s waiting for us, so let me just carry you and enjoy being taken care of.”

“Fine,” Rachel said.

“Besides, you could barely stand after that.” Brittany took the stairs careful, step by step, but it wasn’t any slower than her normal pace. “You were so hot when you come, especially when it was that hard.” Rachel blushed. “Ready for round two?” she nodded. “You’re gonna love what comes next.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well the good news is that I’ve reached 50k+for NaNoWriMo. Also I have this chapter completed prior to starting NaNoWriMo. Bad news: I’ve struggled with writing the next portion of this, Dirty Paws, They didn’t have the words, and a prompt!fic for Kendarrr, but fear not, those should come sometime during the week of Thanksgiving as I actually don’t have homework, which is strange. 
> 
> Anyways, this chapter is pretty much smut, and sets up the next chapter for straight smut. One my betas told me they preferred this plot over Dirty Paws, but meh. I like both. We have true Faberrittana so I hope you all enjoy it.
> 
> I do not own Glee, because we would not have puppets on it if I did. As always, read and review folks, check out my other fics, and send me a message if you have any prompts I’ll take them and consider them. 
> 
> Because I can,  
> SurrealSteamPuckk(WeOffendedShadows)

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Notes: I have not forgotten Dirty Paws. I'm simply diverting my desire for a Faberrittana story to this. This will be rated M and I will have sex and stuff, the stuff being mostly tasteful, but I'm going to have some fun with the situation. Be warned now. The story starts off a bit sad/depressing, but I'll make up for it in the coming chapters. 
> 
> I'm writing this as I write Dirty Paws to partly test myself, but also just to write more. I reached kinda a lull there and I needed a break from the plot as it worked itself in my mind, with the characters telling me what happens next. Seventh chapter goes up today for it. This will probably be updated a bit slower, but I will update it. 
> 
> In the mean time: Read and Review and any suggestions for what should happen in this story are welcome. I'm just setting the stage right now and the sexy-times will come later.
> 
> I own nothing from Glee, or I would have probably kicked almost everyone off the show and just made a porn of the Unholy Trinity, with Rachel Berry guest starring. I'm not ashamed to admit this. 
> 
> Because I can,  
> SurrealSteamPuckk(WeOffendedShadows)


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